01-16-2006, 08:13 AM
A while back I contacted a writer by the name of Black Hand. I got to know him from a fan fiction book he published, and which I really enjoyed reading. I asked him for permission for us to feature his book in Silgrad Tower: Oblivion, to which he responded:
"Wow. I would be honored. [...] You have my complete permission to use and edit my story as you see fit, no strings attached."
And so, without further ado...
royalblue[/hr]
And judging by the weather outside, it certainly seemed to be. I could hear the pounding rain, and crashing thunder. I had arrived late to the docks of this isolated town. The first person to bid me welcome, if you could call it that, was Harma Farseer, the Shipmaster of this place. I offered her a tip so that my return trip would hopefully not be so expensive. 10 gold is 10 gold. Or so I figure, she seemed insulted by it, probably because I'm a Dark Elf, little does she realize i'm not from Morrowind. Even if this place is my races native land.
It doesnt suprise me though, everyone hates everybody else here. Even the native Dunmer are always at each others throats. Which is sort of how I came into the employ of the Morag Tong. Not soon after I arrived in Balmora, Caius had made a little suggestion to me about which factions I should look into joining...
"First things first, pilgrim, you're new, and you look it, I want you too go out get some experience."
"All right,...you mentioned something about House Hlaalu, or the Thieves Guild. Speaking of which Bacola sends his regards." I spoke in my deep, cold voice. My natural tone gave an impression that I did'nt identify with.
Even when I arrived in Seyda Neen, I tried to be friendly with Indrele Rathyron. She looked shocked, and called me an 'Imperial-loving S'wit' probably because of my Cyrodillic Accent. I had gotten an even better reception from Raflod the Braggart, a huge Nord who was eyeing my gold bag after selling the contents of a room I burgled after talking too Socius Ergala. Long Story short, my lighter nature and approach too life did'nt earn me any favors with these humorless Dunmer.
Caius then looked at the tattoo on my face, a large black shape covering nearly the whole of my face. He looked closer and seemed to realize what it was. It was a hand, a black hand.
"Well" he started. "according to your class description. You seem too be the more stealthy type, you might do well in some jink and slink, have you spoken with Sugar-Lips Habasi?" he asked.
I got a disgusted look on my face, I was willing to steal bread so I could eat if I had nothing else, but I considered myself above just randomly stealing things, I felt things worth having must be earned. Caius read this look, and smiled.
"All right then,....what IS a Black Hand, if not a thief?" he said laughingly. I can tell your swifter than most, and your movements indicate to me that your rather agile. I can see by your Wakizashi and Long Bow, that your hardly a Knight. And it wouldnt suprise me if you knew your way around a lock."
With that I could see why this shirtless,balding man was the Imperial Spymaster, it was his job to size up people, to see what was really going on, the truth behind the scenes.
"Black Hand is more like an....Agent, or an Assassin. but we dont just kill for no reason. Its hard to explain..." I muttered.
Caius's eyes glimmered with an inkling of understanding.
"More like the Morag Tong." he stated matter-of-factly.
I looked up, I had heard of them, "The Morag Tong? I've heard of them arent they Assassins?"
"Yup, there a guild of executioners, and unlike the Dark Brotherhood in the west, around here they're completely legal. They have a guild hall over by the Hlaalu Council Manor if you're interested in knowing more, besides that, I have no Idea how to join them."
I was shocked, a Public Assassins Guild? It was too much, I had too see for myself, I trudged across the Odai River Bridge to the Higher Class section of town, I nodded to a few Hlaalu Guardsmen, most of whom regarded me coldly, but one actually returned my nod, and wished a local welcome. "Wealth beyond Measure, Outlander."
I knew he probably pegged as an outlander becuase I still had the simple clothes from my arrival on. I realized I would need to get a more suitable outfit if I wanted people to recieve me on better terms. I had actually gotten lost, and stopped a Redguard,the most polite people I had encountered on Vvardenfell. Even when they did'nt seem too like me, they still were'nt as verbally abusive.
"Pardon me, I am Sethyas Velas, where is the Morag Tong Guidhall? Forgive my ignorance, but I am new here in Balmora."
"Welcome, Sethyas, I am Stargel, I can tell you where that is, and where other services are if you'd like."
I smiled, "Just the Guildhall, please."
He shrugged, and pointed to a house off to the left and almost behind the Council Manor. "Right there, but I dont see what business you'll have with them. Justa bunch of Assassins."
The public thought intrigued me, they werent necessarily liked, but there prescence was accepted.
I walked in the simple building, and was greeted by low red lighting, and suspicious stares. A couple of figures off too my left seemed to be working at some desks, One seemed to be a Dunmer, in some sort of red Ceremonial Robe, and a Redguard in Netch leather Armor. A Woman also in Netch Armor walked toward me, probably wondering what a person who looked like a peasant was doing here. i would later find out, thier primary clientele was Rich Nobles.
"What are you doing here, Outlander? Are you sure that you're in the right building?" she asked.
"Now, Now. Ethasi, leave the Newcomer alone." said a Dunmer Voice, followed by a hand pulling me toward a small area closed off by Paper walls.
"Now then, I am Gilyan Sedas, Assassin, and Thinker of the Morag Tong, what business brings you here?"
I thanked him for the welcome and Introduced myself, and explained my interest in their guild. He listened carefully and explained their rules, the standard 'dont hurt or steal from anyone in the guild', But this is where it got interesting. He explained that though they were assassins, they only killed those marked for death by legal 'writs'. Furthermore, while the lower ranks did not question the writs, the Masters would review the contract before it was accepted, for Legality and Honor, based on both the Great House System, and Local and Imperial Law. They targeted Nobles, and outlaws, those who were either deserving of death, or those accepted death as a consequence of thier station.
"...so you see, our system allows those who do not deserve the destruction of warfare, the common man, farmers, simple merchants, to live free of that fear. We are noble in that cause, and we respect life, innocent life. The unneccessary taking of that life is grounds for expulsion, and may even result in a writ on you."
I was actually impressed, the romantic thought of a Noble Assassin filled my then naive mind.
"So, how do join up then?" I asked with Mild Interest, fingering my Steel Wakizashi's hilt.
With that question Gilyan Sedas clammed up, and his face became contemplative.
"Do not be fooled by the fact that we have public guildhalls, Sethyas Velas, The nature of the Morag Tong is secrective. If you wish to join, you must prove that you are worthy, you must prove that you are a hunter." He said, handing me a blue book, "The Black Glove".
I read the book, it described the virtues the Tong sought, Swiftness, Agile, cold unfeeling killer that still held honor in high regard.
It was easy to imagine myself sneaking through the night, stabbing some Noble in his sleep for a large sum of gold.
But it would be far from that, I couldnt even make sense of how to join.
There was a cryptic sentence about the Grandmaster, Eno Hlaalu, living "between the blood of battle, and the waters of life" somewhere in Vivec.
I shrugged the Idea off for a few weeks, and instead joined the Imperial Cult, first I took there menial tasks gathering alchemical ingredients, and then graduated to Almoner, while begging for Gold and Booze in various Towns, I did manage too find a decent clothier. Falanaamo in Caldera, a High Elf Tailor, who turned out to have a weakness for praise. While this was one of the Almoners tasks, I still hadnt picked up decent clothing. As was I had to blackmail the Argonian Mission for a measly hundred drakes. In truth I dint like the Idea of slavery, but I wasnt here to change the world, just to get by in it.
"Here! Please try it on! Oh! and you know what else, try these matching pants! Falanaamo said excitedly. I couldnt believe he was actually giving me these clothes free. But I had to admit, they did look good on me. The Imperial Style Red Vest Shirt, with black trousers.
"You know...this may sound strange, but the vest and pants actually go well with your facial tattoo....are you...or were you an Ashlander by any chance? That seems a crazy question! An ashlander joining the Imperial Cult! I kill myself!" Falanaamo said laughingly.
I had heard of the Ashlanders adorned thier faces with tribal markings. My red eyes flashed back at me from his Shops Mirror, no....I couldnt be an Ashlander,.....could I? I didnt remember my early childhood, nor knew my parents.
I shrugged the thought off. And thanked him for the clothes, not before buying a pair of gloves off of him. I felt that the least I could do was buy the Leathery brown gloves from him after he gave me so much. But I had too admit it was a good experience in Speechcraft.
The tasks grew in number with the cult, though I care little for thier beleifs, they were friendly enough, and soon the Oracle in Ebonheart approached me one morning, as I walked in through the door, I was actually seeing if Kaye another kind Redguard had Shrine Sergeant assisgnment for me, but she assured me that this was more important.
"Sethyas, you have grown strong under the watchful eyes of the nine divines, and they have granted me a vision, a vision of The Ring in Darkness. More than that, I have seen that YOU are the one to find it." she whispered to me.
She told me the whole dream, and made me swear that I would dedicate body and soul to this quest. I was too find a Dunmer Scout and Savant who would reveal details of her vision too me.
Oddly enough, the least likely people too help me, were more than willing to divulge what they knew. After she had sent me on my way, I took the silt strider back too Balmora, and I stopped into the first Bar I saw, The Council Club.
As I walked in I was greeted with a cold "outlander". Thanelen Velas stared at me with cold, red eyes. I returned the look and made my way down too the bar and ordered a Mazte. The Barkeep was decent enough, I smiled at the thought that just a week earlier I had stolen five bottles of his Cyrodilic Brandy.
Savor Trandel walked over to my stool and gazed at me. " Let me offer you a little advice, we dont like outlanders, you."
I looked back at him and rahter then feel scared, I felt confrontational, It was probably the Mazte.
"You got about five seconds too get outta my face before they find your remains floating in the Odai." I snarled.
The threat seemed to work, and his demeanor changed from coldy murderous, to openly freindly, he was clearly intimidated.
"Hey now, settle down, I was'nt serious! Your a not bad for a outlander f'lah!" he said with a slight tremor in his voice.
He then offered me a drink, and we actually had a discussion, I ended up telling him about the Ring in Darkness, and he looked at me and told me that Vision probably meant Nammu, "A place with no name"
Soros Gilnith walked over, and said that she knew that cave, and that there was a ring of water around a natural rock formation. a "Ring in Darkness" just off the coast of Sadrith Mora.
Suffice to say I found the damn cave after about three days of searching, despite my frustration, I felt better in Alteration after casting a Water Walking spell about three hundred times. In the cave I found the Ring of the Wind on Galmis Dren, as I put the Ring on I felt my Awareness of the world around me increase, I could perceive my motions and the motions of others around me with greater clarity. And then I saw him. Jon Hawker, yet another Redguard. After giving him a Divine Intervention Scroll he dissapeared from sight, leaving behind a pair of gloves, they looked just like my gloves except I could sense great power infused in them. One I could tell, would charm others for a short time, the other would give my enemies a sting in the mind alowing me a decisive advantage for a few seconds.
Soon after, the oracle sent me too acquire the Boots of the Apostle. While deep within the caverns, I discovered a skeleton peirced to a stalactite, I pulled out a black dagger in its arm, it was heavy, and looked sinister. I replaced my Wakizashi with it, as my former weapon had served little purpose against some scamps I encountered in the upper levels of Berendas, but searing their flesh with a Tendrams Scorcher Scroll, gave me a macarbre satisfaction.
Down in the dark depths, I could hear unwordly groans, my heart raced, and my Enchanted Glove-clad hand sweated nervously underneath. I sneaked as well as I could toward a body I could see in the distance. My hand then suddenly pulled out the dagger, before I realized it. I was suddenly beaten down from behindby a pair of sharp claws, ripping through my flesh, blood poured down my back. I got up with a spinning kick, hitting nothing. I then casted Ancestor Guardian, calling upon an Spirit to guard me, and put on the Ring I found in Nammu. I lit a torch, and looked around me, and suddenly I saw a Womans Face, I was puzzled for a split second, before I saw that is was connected to a demons body. It was a Winged Twilight! The creature lashed out at me again, but this time I was more than prepared, as the vile thing hit nothing but thin air, as I effortlessly dodged its attacks, The black dagger I found turned out to be more of a blessing than I thought, whatever it was, it could affect this creature, and with three vital blows the creature was felled.
I continued on to the body, and saw them, The Boots of the Apostle, It felt strange taking these boots off of a corpse, I hoped the smell from the carcass did'nt wafte onto the apparell, and strangely enough they didnt. This was a powerful artifact, indeed. I put them on, and felt the power they held as well. The deep reserve of energy in these boots could grant me the power too walk through the air.
And it wasnt a moment to soon as the second guardian, the one I didnt see attacked me. again I was knocked over from behind. This time i threw the torch at the Daedroth and Cast the levitation spell in the boots, casting a Divine intervention in midair.
Back in Gnisis, I swore off Questing for a while. I rested and healed in Hetman Abelmawia's house, he was kind to an obviously wounded adventurer.
Deciding to take a simple walk and contemplate on things here in Vvardenfell, I cake accross a beautiful Breton Female, somewhat north of Gnisis. She was immedeatly flirty and polite. Asking me to recover a ring in the pond. Being a sucker for a pretty face, and admittedly lonely, I found her offer of a "reward" irresistable. I waded into the water, and figured that at least it would be good way to see how my prized new boots wood hold up in water.
I saw the ring and picked it up, not a second after the same voice I heard when I first came too Vvardenfell was inside my head.
"No Good Deed goes unpunished, Outlander."
Suddenly she attacked me, throwing Poisoned throwing stars at me. One actually logged itself in my arm, I felt the potent poison move its way through my bloodstream. Enraged, and seeing double, I leapt up to the rock ridge surrounding the pond, I had never jumped so high, but with my adrenaline pumping it seemed I could do anything. I than suddenly felt an arrow wizz by my head, a narrow escape from death was met by puzzlement again. The Breton woman had no bow on her, where had it come from? realizing that the arrow had come from behind me, I turned around, seeing nothing. Than I saw it, a slight distortion, a could barely make out a figure, looking as though it was stringing another arrow into a bow. The figure was good, but not as good as me. With my speed being superior to the figures, I pulled out my own Bonemold Long Bow, and strung a Arrow, before it had finished, my silver arrow whistled through the air, and lodged itself in the figures head. It became obvious that the figure was a Chitin-Armor Clad, as whatever spell it had cast wore off with its death.
In the two seconds this took place in, I almost forgot about the breton. Almost. She reminded me of her prescence with her yelling some idle threat, and rushing at me with her dagger drawn.
I jumped down from the rock and pulled out my own dagger, dodging her blow, and with a kick, disarmed her. Her dagger falling into the pond that I had just picked up her ring from.
She suddenly looked scared, and started too back off. Looking as though she were about too flee, it did nothing to inspire sympathy in me. Instead her betrayal to kill and rob me only fueled my anger tenfold.
In rage I grabbed her arm, and ran with her yelling and screaming towards the pond. I kicked her knee, forcing her flat on her face. She yelled in pain, as I forced her face underneath the water, the screams became muffled.
I held her like that until her body went limp, I threw the rest of her into the pond. As I walked away, it struck me,..What had I done? This wasnt honorable. It was Cold-Blooded Murder. In rage I had given an unthinkable demise. Yes she would kill me. But I could have been merciful, and ended it all with a stroke of a Dagger. Instead......
I walked over to the body of what was the figure, I ripped off the Mask Helm. It was a Dunmer Woman. So it had been a pair of women. I actually felt pity, who knows what they're real story was? I noticed she had a very nice Amulet on. Ripping it off her neck, I sensed the strong Ilusory powers it held. This was what had made her walk unseen, The Amulet of Shadows.
Two days later I was back in Balmora. I busted into Caius's House for lack of better bedding.
"So Sethyas were you interested in Orders? Or was there something else you wanted?" he asked.
"Something Else." I said curtly. I wasnt in the mood for discussion.
"Well go ahead and use my bed if you want. I never really sleep anyway." he replied.
Glancing at his Skooma pipe hastily stashed underneath the bed, it wasnt hard to wonder why.
The hours passed slowly and in sleep I was haunted by what I had done too that Breton Woman, though the Amulet I had found would prove invaluable, I wonder if I had acted differently?
Waking me, Caiussaid he had another Important mission for me.
"I want you to go to Vivec. There are three informants I want you to get information from." He told me handing me a letter, and a bag of Gold.
I made my way, and then re-read a passage in the book Gilyan Sedas had given me.
"The blood of the hunter and the blood of the hunted. The joy of the hidden and the joy of the seeker. The blood of the eye and the blood of the gate. The joy of the living and the joy of the dead. Are you one with these things? Then, perhaps, your oath and service may please Mephala."
I realized that, though I was no Stranger too Combat and Killing, I had crossed some threshold.
One of these Informants was actually a Morag Tong Assassin, Huleeya was an Argonian, which was strange considering that These Lizard-Men were usually slaves in Morrowind.
After finding getting some information about the Nerevarine Cult from this rather Eloquent Assassin, I asked him about joining the Morag Tong.
He looked me over with expressionless black eyes, and said : "Yes, you may be worthy, your first test is too seek out Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu somewhere here in Vivec."
I looked at him, and showed him the book. And asked him. "Can you at least point me in the right direction?"
"Well...wouldnt the blood of battle take place in an Uhhh-rreee...?"
I thought for a second, and then blurted out. "Arena! Of course!" I slapped myself for being so stupid, the answer was so obvious.
"Swift Hunting, Friend." said Huleeya.
I took off to The Arena, and after searching the Underworks to no avail, I walked artound in the Canal works for a little while, then saw an Ordinator. And decided to ask him if he had seen them.
At first he wouldnt say a thing, either because he didnt like me, or because he was on a lowly detail, or both. But remebering my gloves, I waved my hand and for a few seconds I increased his diposition enough for him to tell me that he does see them from time time, and they usually come through the Arena Storage.
Thanking him, I walked as the spell wore off and he suddenly seemed confused as why he just told this guy such valuable information.
Walking into the darkened Storage Area, I was immedeatley attacked by Large Rats, Slipping out my Daedric Dagger, I made short work of them. After dispatching the rats, I got a feel for the room, there were three doors in the Arena storage, and two of them were locked. Walking over too the left one, I pulled out my Journeymans Lockpick, getting a feel for the tumblers, I motioned the pick, and then turned. The lock came open effortlessly, and walking around the room, I realized that there was nothing in here. But going through the crates, I found several Limeware bowls and cups, quite valuable.
I thought of my prior disgust when Caius had suggested joining the Thieves Guild, and yet here I was actually thinking about stealing these and selling them off. Then I remembered those first few nights on the bitter coast, how dangerous it was to rest on the shore, with all the Alits. Kagouti, and Cliff Racer after Cliff Racer, attacking me. these would fill my Bag with enough gold to get a decent room for the next month.
Swallowing my pride, I filled my bag with them. I still didnt like it, but being a stranger in a strange land, with my gold running low, what choice did I have?
I moved onto the second locked door. This one was a little more complicated, and I had too use a second pick after my prior one broke. Moving into the room, yet another rat attackerd me, and I pulled out the dagger, mercilessly slashing the unending nuisance of these creatures.
Sheathing my dagger, I saw it. A trapdoor. I knew that this door was what I had been looking for, I could soft murmurs coming from inside whatever secrets this door held.
Though this door was but a simple door, absolutely nothing special about it. but I realized passing through it, involved a choice. And if I made the choice to pass through, my life, and myself, would not be the same as this moment.
I took a deep breath, and I pulled on the trapdoor. My motion was met with strong resistance, it was locked, and locked well. I kicked myself for thinking it would be that simple. I set myself to the lock, and for well over an hour, I worked on the complicated set of tumblers, destroying many of the picks I had on my person. The difficulty of the task left no dought in my mind that this was Morag Tong headquarters.
Then, finally, the lock clicked open. I breathed a sigh of relief. Opening the door, I saw a ladder heading down into a well-lit area, and the voices suddenly stopped with the creaking noises I made coming down. Fearful of the unknown, I unsheathed my dagger, and walked slowly down a long corridor, which led to a set of stairs that walked up to a large room.
As I ascended them, I saw a room full of Dunmer in the popular Netch Leather Armor. As well as an Orc walking around. The red-eyed stares gave me a cold chill, I expected to be attacked for entering this halloweed room. But I slowly realized that the stares were not of hostility, but of slight admiration.
A Dunmer Woman approached me, and said softly. "Put away your weapon, none here will harm you, unless you mean us harm. You have found our headquarters, and this speaks well of you. You should speak with Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu, he is upstairs."
I obeyed, and put away the dagger that would be responsible for taking many lives, in the name of Mephala.
"You...have been expecting me?" I inquired.
The Female Assassin actually smiled at me. "In a way, we've heard of your deeds, and your....inquiry to join us in Balmora, was memorable, according to Gilyan Sedas."
I realized that the Morag Tong was probably the best agents of Intelligence on Vvardenfell. Rumors abouinded of them being tight-lipped about everything.
I nodded and smiled at her and walked through the headquarters, the strange faces regarding me cooly, but friendlier than most towns and guilds I had walked into, then happening upon a room, I saw him.
Clad in red Robes with decorative belts, and pouchs for gear. A robe distinctive to the Morag Tong. A black gloved hand rubbed the side of his face, and the Tall imposing Dunmer glanced at me cooly with his red eyes. Sizing me up for a moment, Eno Hlaalu, perhaps the most dangerous assassin in Morrowind, finally spoke.
Without cracking a smile he addressed me by name. "So, Sethyas Velas, you have found me. If you wish, you may request to join the Morag Tong."
This was a second test. Noone would force, threaten, or cajole me. If I joined the Assassins Guild, it was of my own free will.
"I may wish to join, I admit your ways, though strange to me, also appeal too me. I may take the oath.'
I passed the Second test, and Eno Hlaalu visibly lightened up a little.
"Long has the Morag Tong been watching you, and we are pleased. Join us."
Returning his stare, I thought about it for a second. I knew now that I had cold-blooded murder in me, ever since that chance meeting with a Breton Woman.
"Yes. I wish to bring Honor to the Guild." I replied.
My response was met with a stern look of approval. Master Hlaalu walked over to his desk, and pulled out a key, he unlocked a small chest , and considered several small peices of paper for a moment, and then pulled out a rolled peice of paper.
Walking toward me he handed it to me, I unrolled it. I was marked with the name "Feruren Oran" followed by a legal statement giving me absolute authority to murder the personage. Below that was a Red Wax with an Imrprint of a seal, the seal of the Morag Tong. This would let any guard know that this was indeed a legal contract to kill.
"I will give you the authority to act in our name, you are a probationer. Honorably execute Feruren Oran, and join us, fail....and die." he spoke in the deep, cold Dunmer voice.
I looked at him, shocked that he would expect me too kill someone so soon. but this was their way, and this was the third and final test. Did I have the nerve to kill in cold-blood? And did I have the skills of an Assassin? Realizing it would be a mistake to refuse or even to delay the execution of the writ, I accepted and asked him where he was.
"He may be found in the Elven Nations Cornerclub in the Hlaalu Canton here in Vivec, take his life in the name of Mephala. Go now." he spoke with absolute authority and confidence in his voice.
Not wasting a moment, I ran out, and walked accross the cantons, to Hlaalu Compound. I didnt even fully realize what I was doing until I walked into the Club.
My stomach began to have butterflies, and I was nervous, to the point that I couldnt even walk. Ordering the strongest drink I could think of, I sat down and drank a flin, I even thought about calling rhe whole thing off, but what were the consequences of refusing a writ? Could I be marked for assassination for betraying the Morag Tong? Killed by someone who had the nerve too do something that I couldnt, now that would be a death.
As the effects of the alcohol took affect, I could feel my resolve rising, and I felt stronger too. The time for thoughts, and pity, and fear was gone. I stood up and made my way down the corridor to the lower part of the club, halfway down, I called upon the energies in my Amulet, and let the Illusion of Chameleon hide me from the prying eyes of the Innocent. Sneaking as too lower any other concerns, I came behind him, the black-clad figure sat at a Table drinking, just as I had done not a minute earlier.
Crouching behind him unseen, I pulled out the Daedric Dagger, and with my left hand I clamped his mouth shut, and with my right hand I brought the Dagger iinto his ribs, I repeated this motion three times. The other patrons hadnt noticed anything yet, and I held Feruren until the attempts to breathe ceased a few seconds later. Quietly letting his head rest on the table, noone would notice anything until the pool of blood under his seat grew large. Picking up his steel Dai-Katana as a token of my first kill, I snuck back up the stairs, than resumed a normal pace as the Chameleon wore off.
Still under the influence of the Flin, I had a smile on my face, as I walked out of the club, and heard a womans scream.
Walking toward the Arena. I came to my senses, the flase bravado of the alcohol wore off. And I realized I had succeeded. I was an Assassin. I was a killer.
Suddenly, standing there in the dieing light of the sun, and the rising moons of Secunda and Masser, something in me died. I realized I was no longer innocent. I was part of something else now, and that innocence would have no place in it.
I came back to Master Hlaalu, before I had been Suspicious, and aloof. Now I was almost demoralized. It was hard to stomach what I was, and he saw the look on my face. He uncharacteristically showed an ounce of sympathy.
"The first time is never easy, but you are part of a noble cause now. You shoulder the grief and pain that the common man and mer would feel if we did not exist. And though this may not sound right, it gets easier with each writ. My agents tell me that Feruren Oran is dead, and I name you Sethyas Velas, Blind Thrall."
I looked up at him with heavy eyes.
"Thank you,....Master."
I awoke the next morning, dreaming dreams of the last few weeks. Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu had been right, it would get easier with each writ. I had traveled all over this Island to earn my gold, and to take life in the name of Mephala. My gold Bag grew heavier with each Writ, and my skill with a dagger had grew legendary in my Guild. But as with most things, legends were blown out of proportion. I prefered my bow over my dagger, and the thought would be against whatever image my reputation had instilled in the listener.
I thought back to my last assignment. Mavon Drenim. This Ranking Telvanni Noble had probabnly been the reason the Morag Tong was looking to hire new Assassins. I had personally asked for the assignment. Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu who had actually started to act as my patron in the Guild couldnt hide his affection for me any longer.
"Sethyas, please, I know that this Writ is outstanding. But I would prefer to give this assignment to someone else. Mavon Drenim has killed everyone who has tried to honorably execute him. A thousand-year ol;d wizard is not an foe easily felled. You have proven yourself with your writs, truly none could deny your dedication. But you are still too new to our Order. Hold off, hone your skills, come back when you have more experience." he pleaded in a dark tone.
My ears borth lapped up his complements, and was outraged by his lack of confidence in me. For three days after Feruren Oran was dead, I hated him, and the Tong. But most of all I hated myself for joining.
But then when I heard that their was a writ for Ehtal Seltoth and Idroso Vendu, I wondered. I had heard of the Telvanni Murderers. And I remebered what Gilyan had said.
"...so you see, our system allows those who do not deserve the destruction of warfare, the common man, farmers, simple merchants, to live free of that fear. We are noble in that cause, and we respect life, innocent life. The unneccessary taking of that life is grounds for expulsion, and may even result in a writ on you."
I stopped caring only about myself, and I realized that what he said was true. What my patron, Eno Hlaalu, said "We bear the burden, so others do not." was also true.
I was a cold-blooded killer, I was also noble, I was a principled agent of a worthy cause. I thought of my dislike for thieves and random murderers. I WAS different. I DID have honor. If I did not, I wouldnt care about that Breton I killed. Or rather how I killed her.
So I dedicated myself, I took the lives of nobles, and ashlanders. Their deaths would mean that this fragile political system would be held together. And I would profit financially. But as an outlander, I couldnt bring myself to humble myself before Mephala as my fellow guildmembers insisted.
She was a Daedra Prince, a spirit. Not a god. Even the Imperial Cult of which I was a Member never got me to acknowledge the 'divinity' of their nine spirits. Instead I looked to myself, for strength and guidance, and felt others weak in mind and spirit, for not doing the same.
I am a Black Hand, the unseen shadow that uses his mind as his ultimate weapon to overcome any obstacles to his goal, and my new career in the Morag Tong had filled me with a confidence I never felt before. But I reminded myself to stay humble, there was always another more powerful, more cunning.
And I had overcome Serjo Drenim, using my Amulet as a major tool in his demise, My bow, not my dagger had been the tool of his fall from grace. A spell is of no use if you dont know where to cast it. And an arrow through the heart is very hard to heal, especially if followed by another to the head.
My mind snapped back to the present, I was here in Dagon Fel. And I was here to kill yet again. This time, it would be a fell necromancer.
Tirer Belvayn.
I put on my trademark Red Shirt with a Black vest, and slipped the gifted gloves of Zenithar over my Grey hands, one of the fingers stil beared the The Ring of the Wind, with these tools, I had climbed my way too Thinker in the Tong.
Walking out into the now sunny island from my room in the End of the World, I began my hunt for the Velothi Tower that encased the foul wizard. Finding it where Eno had said, I made my inside, Using the Dai-Katana I had found on Feruren Oran to dispatch the Abominations guarding the path to him. Skeletons and Bonewalkers attacked me at every turn. In truth I did not hate them, I felt pity. To have ones corpse used in such a way I found a little more than distasteful. Even the Natives belief that what they did was not necromancy, I found appaling. Even if it was limited and specific in its use, necromancy was necromancy.
Finding him reading at the top of his tower, I again cast the Amulet of Shadows, and strung my arrow of choice, silver, into the Bonemold Bow, pulling back and releasing, the arrow found it way above his heart, instead lodgind itself into his shoulder, a complete miss.
He got up and began screaming, I silently cursed, realizing this was going to be harder than I thought, and pulled out my Daedric Dagger, running toward him with my left palm outstrectched, though he couldnt see it, my hand casted Zenithars Warning, rendering him slightly blind, demoralized. and unable to cast any spells. Not for long, but long enough.
My right hand then swung forward, the blade cleanly slicing through his throat. He fell to his knees, gasping for air, my effect wore off, and I kneeled with him. I held his hand as the fear of death enveloped his eyes. Mercifully I then grabbed his head with both hands, and broke his neck, blood splattering onto my shirt.
I stood up slowly, and grabbed his writ, and bowed my head.
"Rest in peace now, and walk with the Ancestors. And know that everytime one of you dies, a part of me dies too."
I opened my eyes, and slowly walked out of Shara. I would be in Vivec ina few days, and would be Thousand Gold richer. But it still felt like I was selling a big chunk of my soul.
I was waiting in the lower quarters of the Morag Tong Headquarters, rumor had it that there was a large writ being taken place, and with my recent promotion to Knower, as well as my new reputation for being the rising star in the Morag Tong after being the only Agent to execute Mavon Drenim after five outstanding years, and five failed attempts to end his life.
It was strange, though most of my writs were hard to accept, and even made me unable to sleep some nights, I felt no regret, no guilt, in the assassination of the Telvanni Wizard.
While hunting Sarayn Sadus in Sadrith Mora, I had learned a little of this Houses customs, they were open to the game of life and death. Killing an opponent by treachery or deception was openly accepted, and though technically a grounds for expulsion, re-admitance was unquestioned, and freely given.
If not me, than some other Telvanni would certainly have eventually challenged his position.
Ulmesi Baryon, one of the elite agents chosen to house the headquarters, and also a person who had trained me in the use of short blades approached me, and started a conversation on technique. Though the conversation seemed a bit macarbe too me, it was still good to get to know my Guildmembers better.
"Well." she answered me in my question about preference over Marksman versus Short blades.
"..if I'm in a postion, where I am largely undetected, and possibly against numerous opponents, Id rather go for a crossbow, and get in a 'one shot, one kill' and either use an Intervention scroll, or a recall spell to get to safety as the others become alerted to my prescence. As long as the Target is eliminated, my job is done."
I nodded in agreement to the strategy, as talented as I might have seemed on the outside, or by reputation, I was still unsure and insecure about many things internally.
"And what of close-up wet work? What kind of blade do you prefer?" I asked.
"Glass. Sharp as hell, and light enough to carry several back-ups, or different types, as the situation demands. A Glass Jinkblade is invaluable to an Assassin. Speaking of which...whats your favored blade?"
I pulled out the Daedric Dagger, and she gave a genuine look of suprise, the rare, beautiful wepon was a kind rarely seen, and she was equally suprised as the story as to how I aquired it, when I was deep beneath Berandas questing for the Boots of the Apostle.
When asked to see it, she marveled at its edges and intricate design. It also seemed to prompt a suggestion from her.
"You know, this is a sinister weapon, but it also might be holding you back in skill with a dagger..." she said as I gave her a confused look.
"You see, your using the weight of the dagger when you swing it at your target to inflict most of the damage, with a glass dagger..." she pulled out hers and let me feel its weight. It was light as feather compared to my dark blade.
"...you rely more on skill, as in where to lodge the blade to inflict most damage, as well as more of you own strength to impale it. Think of the Glass Dagger as more of a scalpel,relying more on accuracy as well as speed, and the Daedric Dagger as more of a hammer, relying on its own weight. For your next assignment, you may wish too consider trying the Glass Dagger...you'd be suprised."
The conversation did strike a chord in me. Mainly that I had been increasing my skills in stealthy kills, and that until this moment, I had'nt fully realized what I had become, or what I was doing.
I now did. Until now I had been coasting along, taking this with one writ to the next. I realized now, that I had a choice. I could request to retire, to put this as experience to be put behind me, or see this through too the end, whatever it may be.
It was a hard choice. I had grown in the eyes of my guild, who treated me with respect. Even Huleeya, an Argonian, was respected. Perhaps the very definition of an Outlander. And there were rumors, I knew, as to the relationship I had with the Grandmaster, Eno Hlaalu.
Deciding to act as my Patron of sorts, Eno had watched me grow in skill and cunning. Everytime I walked away with a new writ in my hands, he had an equal look of pride and worry in his face. For an Elite Assassin, he had mastered either controlling his feelings, or not having any. Whether this was a weakness he held for me, or a subtle form of manipulation to bring me into the fold, I did not know.
The Orc, Rogdul gro-Bularz, grunted respectfully at me, and told me in his rough voice to go and see the Master. I nodded in compliance, and walked up the stairs.
Eno gave me a look of freindly approval and bid me welcome. He motioned to a seat, and I took it. He sat at his desk, his back too me.
"Knower Velas. It is time I revealed another face of the Morag Tong too you. Many years ago, Black Hands Mephala made a deal with Sanguine for twenty seven tokens she could give to her devoted followers. The Dark Brotherhood stole these tokens from us, but Mephala has arranged for them to return here to Vvardenfell one by one. And so I have chosen you, a proven hunter to find and bring to me the tokens. If you can do this for me, I will take you on as my protege. You will be on the fast track to Exalted Master,...you may even my Successor to lead the Morag Tong."
The news was quite a shock too me. So Eno had had this in mind all along, he was probably ready for retirement and was looking for someone who could lead the Tong after he was gone. At first I was flattered that he would choose me for these assignments. But it was a grave responsiblity, and one that I did not relish in the thought of taking on my already burdened shoulders.
"Allow me some time to consider this, I-I admit I've already had some second thoughts about doing what I do to begin with, now you wish for me to someday lead the Guild?" I stammered out.
"You shall not proceed with one foot out the door, and one foot in. Decide where your loyalties lie Velas." he said sternly, with a dissapointed tone.
As I walked out the room he stopped me with a word.
"Sethyas. You have already started to walk down the path I have laid before whether you know it or not. You remember Guril Retheran?" he asked.
I remembered. He was a Redoran Assassin I had openly killed in the Flowers of Gold club in the Redoran Canton. He had on him a feind Tanto, and a Enchanted Glove that I was not too ashamed to take.
"Yes, I can see that you remember. He had ties too the Dark Brotherhood, that Glove was one of the Threads of the Webspinner."
Shocked, I pulled it out. It was....I could sense the Daedric energy.
"Will you give it too me now?" he asked.
I handed it too him, and walked out. Whether I knew it or not, it had begun.
Still confused and in some pain, I realized that the Religious folk of Vvardenfell had an advantage over me. They had gods or spirits they could turn to in times of need. I didnt have that luxury, I dought that even Caius could help me now.
I thought of the people I had killed, from the Beton Woman whom would have killed me, to Tirer Belvayn, a foul Necromancer.
Walking in the northern areas of Vivec City, I made my way to the Shore near the Silt Strider. I remembered how I felt when I first joined. How I hated myself, Eno, and the Guild. And those feelings were coming back, wrenching at me. As if my old self was holding me back from going over into the abyss.
And the abyss was deep. It was cold, numb, unfeeling. It was everything I wasnt, and everything that I was starting to become. I thought to myself, 'The reason I hate this is because I'm being acknowledged as good and talented at this. If I were to simply go about a few writs every now and then, this might not be as bad.'
I fell asleep on the shores of Lake Amaya that I had come across during my long walk. It was perhaps the first time I had slept well in weeks. I slept restfully until the ghosts of all those I had killed started to come forth to me.
In the dream I was sitting in a dark room, In fact I couldnt see anything except for when the Dark Spirits came forth to me, their faces an ashen grey, all with dry, accusing eyes. Still sporting the fatal wounds I had supplied them with, they started to come closer, levitating off the floor it seemed. The fear and tension grew in me with every inch they crept towrd my trapped, sitting form.
Then when they seemed poised to strike they suddenly turned into long stretching black forms, and they connected to the dark floor underneath me. Suddenly I realized in was in the palms of two giant black hands. My fear vanished, and I felt a cold wind against my face.
Two glowing eyes opened in the distance. And a voice spoke to me. It was Mephala, the Dark Daedra the Morag Tong worshipped.
"In my name have you slain, in my hands have you placed yourself. It is your choice if you walk away Sethyas Velas, but once before you placed your vanity aside to serve something larger then yourself. and I would ask that of you again. Go forth Black Hand, resume the path of the Unseen Shadow, become death's hand, become fear, become the hunter."
The dark request echoed in my mind, and I realized this was no mere dream.
"And what if I refuse? This is not who or what I am! Killing pleases you! It does not me! I am no servant of any Daedra!" I roared at the Shadow.
"Arent you?" the voice taunted. "You who shall bring forth the prophecies of Azura will see in time that you mortals are lost without our guiding hands. And you will also see in time that who we are, is not necessarily connected to what we do."
The last syllable echoed once more, as I rushed back to reality. It was morning. I was dizzy, and as I struggled to get up, I vomited.
The dream became a checkered pattern of rememberance and forgotten moments.
Finally regaining my strength several hours later, I got up. Who we are is not necessarily connected to what we do.
I walked back to the Arena in Vivec, this time I was no longer reluctant, my resistance was gone. I could live in peace with what I did. I thoght that an Assassin had to be cold and unfeeling. But now I realized that I did not have to fall into the abyss.
While most assassins might be ruthless murderers, evil in a sense. A man who kills for a greater need, or purpose, could still be thoughtful, sensitive. Killing like anything gets easier as you do it. But I found a new reverence for life. Before I had formulated the philosophy in my mind, now I was living it. i cherished each moment I was able to take a step, aware of the possibillity that each one could be my last.
I was that same possibility for others. We have no say when our time will come.
Be it at my daggers end, or at the whim of a disease, or at the end of a long, honorable life.
royalblue[/hr]
The novel seems to end here, but then again the last installment was written as recent as January 8th, 2006, so it will most likely continue.
"Wow. I would be honored. [...] You have my complete permission to use and edit my story as you see fit, no strings attached."
And so, without further ado...
royalblue[/hr]
Dagon Fel, End of the world Tavern.
And judging by the weather outside, it certainly seemed to be. I could hear the pounding rain, and crashing thunder. I had arrived late to the docks of this isolated town. The first person to bid me welcome, if you could call it that, was Harma Farseer, the Shipmaster of this place. I offered her a tip so that my return trip would hopefully not be so expensive. 10 gold is 10 gold. Or so I figure, she seemed insulted by it, probably because I'm a Dark Elf, little does she realize i'm not from Morrowind. Even if this place is my races native land.
It doesnt suprise me though, everyone hates everybody else here. Even the native Dunmer are always at each others throats. Which is sort of how I came into the employ of the Morag Tong. Not soon after I arrived in Balmora, Caius had made a little suggestion to me about which factions I should look into joining...
Balmora; Caius Cosades Home, Three Months earlier
"First things first, pilgrim, you're new, and you look it, I want you too go out get some experience."
"All right,...you mentioned something about House Hlaalu, or the Thieves Guild. Speaking of which Bacola sends his regards." I spoke in my deep, cold voice. My natural tone gave an impression that I did'nt identify with.
Even when I arrived in Seyda Neen, I tried to be friendly with Indrele Rathyron. She looked shocked, and called me an 'Imperial-loving S'wit' probably because of my Cyrodillic Accent. I had gotten an even better reception from Raflod the Braggart, a huge Nord who was eyeing my gold bag after selling the contents of a room I burgled after talking too Socius Ergala. Long Story short, my lighter nature and approach too life did'nt earn me any favors with these humorless Dunmer.
Caius then looked at the tattoo on my face, a large black shape covering nearly the whole of my face. He looked closer and seemed to realize what it was. It was a hand, a black hand.
"Well" he started. "according to your class description. You seem too be the more stealthy type, you might do well in some jink and slink, have you spoken with Sugar-Lips Habasi?" he asked.
I got a disgusted look on my face, I was willing to steal bread so I could eat if I had nothing else, but I considered myself above just randomly stealing things, I felt things worth having must be earned. Caius read this look, and smiled.
"All right then,....what IS a Black Hand, if not a thief?" he said laughingly. I can tell your swifter than most, and your movements indicate to me that your rather agile. I can see by your Wakizashi and Long Bow, that your hardly a Knight. And it wouldnt suprise me if you knew your way around a lock."
With that I could see why this shirtless,balding man was the Imperial Spymaster, it was his job to size up people, to see what was really going on, the truth behind the scenes.
"Black Hand is more like an....Agent, or an Assassin. but we dont just kill for no reason. Its hard to explain..." I muttered.
Caius's eyes glimmered with an inkling of understanding.
"More like the Morag Tong." he stated matter-of-factly.
I looked up, I had heard of them, "The Morag Tong? I've heard of them arent they Assassins?"
"Yup, there a guild of executioners, and unlike the Dark Brotherhood in the west, around here they're completely legal. They have a guild hall over by the Hlaalu Council Manor if you're interested in knowing more, besides that, I have no Idea how to join them."
I was shocked, a Public Assassins Guild? It was too much, I had too see for myself, I trudged across the Odai River Bridge to the Higher Class section of town, I nodded to a few Hlaalu Guardsmen, most of whom regarded me coldly, but one actually returned my nod, and wished a local welcome. "Wealth beyond Measure, Outlander."
I knew he probably pegged as an outlander becuase I still had the simple clothes from my arrival on. I realized I would need to get a more suitable outfit if I wanted people to recieve me on better terms. I had actually gotten lost, and stopped a Redguard,the most polite people I had encountered on Vvardenfell. Even when they did'nt seem too like me, they still were'nt as verbally abusive.
"Pardon me, I am Sethyas Velas, where is the Morag Tong Guidhall? Forgive my ignorance, but I am new here in Balmora."
"Welcome, Sethyas, I am Stargel, I can tell you where that is, and where other services are if you'd like."
I smiled, "Just the Guildhall, please."
He shrugged, and pointed to a house off to the left and almost behind the Council Manor. "Right there, but I dont see what business you'll have with them. Justa bunch of Assassins."
The public thought intrigued me, they werent necessarily liked, but there prescence was accepted.
I walked in the simple building, and was greeted by low red lighting, and suspicious stares. A couple of figures off too my left seemed to be working at some desks, One seemed to be a Dunmer, in some sort of red Ceremonial Robe, and a Redguard in Netch leather Armor. A Woman also in Netch Armor walked toward me, probably wondering what a person who looked like a peasant was doing here. i would later find out, thier primary clientele was Rich Nobles.
"What are you doing here, Outlander? Are you sure that you're in the right building?" she asked.
"Now, Now. Ethasi, leave the Newcomer alone." said a Dunmer Voice, followed by a hand pulling me toward a small area closed off by Paper walls.
"Now then, I am Gilyan Sedas, Assassin, and Thinker of the Morag Tong, what business brings you here?"
I thanked him for the welcome and Introduced myself, and explained my interest in their guild. He listened carefully and explained their rules, the standard 'dont hurt or steal from anyone in the guild', But this is where it got interesting. He explained that though they were assassins, they only killed those marked for death by legal 'writs'. Furthermore, while the lower ranks did not question the writs, the Masters would review the contract before it was accepted, for Legality and Honor, based on both the Great House System, and Local and Imperial Law. They targeted Nobles, and outlaws, those who were either deserving of death, or those accepted death as a consequence of thier station.
"...so you see, our system allows those who do not deserve the destruction of warfare, the common man, farmers, simple merchants, to live free of that fear. We are noble in that cause, and we respect life, innocent life. The unneccessary taking of that life is grounds for expulsion, and may even result in a writ on you."
I was actually impressed, the romantic thought of a Noble Assassin filled my then naive mind.
"So, how do join up then?" I asked with Mild Interest, fingering my Steel Wakizashi's hilt.
With that question Gilyan Sedas clammed up, and his face became contemplative.
"Do not be fooled by the fact that we have public guildhalls, Sethyas Velas, The nature of the Morag Tong is secrective. If you wish to join, you must prove that you are worthy, you must prove that you are a hunter." He said, handing me a blue book, "The Black Glove".
I read the book, it described the virtues the Tong sought, Swiftness, Agile, cold unfeeling killer that still held honor in high regard.
It was easy to imagine myself sneaking through the night, stabbing some Noble in his sleep for a large sum of gold.
But it would be far from that, I couldnt even make sense of how to join.
There was a cryptic sentence about the Grandmaster, Eno Hlaalu, living "between the blood of battle, and the waters of life" somewhere in Vivec.
I shrugged the Idea off for a few weeks, and instead joined the Imperial Cult, first I took there menial tasks gathering alchemical ingredients, and then graduated to Almoner, while begging for Gold and Booze in various Towns, I did manage too find a decent clothier. Falanaamo in Caldera, a High Elf Tailor, who turned out to have a weakness for praise. While this was one of the Almoners tasks, I still hadnt picked up decent clothing. As was I had to blackmail the Argonian Mission for a measly hundred drakes. In truth I dint like the Idea of slavery, but I wasnt here to change the world, just to get by in it.
"Here! Please try it on! Oh! and you know what else, try these matching pants! Falanaamo said excitedly. I couldnt believe he was actually giving me these clothes free. But I had to admit, they did look good on me. The Imperial Style Red Vest Shirt, with black trousers.
"You know...this may sound strange, but the vest and pants actually go well with your facial tattoo....are you...or were you an Ashlander by any chance? That seems a crazy question! An ashlander joining the Imperial Cult! I kill myself!" Falanaamo said laughingly.
I had heard of the Ashlanders adorned thier faces with tribal markings. My red eyes flashed back at me from his Shops Mirror, no....I couldnt be an Ashlander,.....could I? I didnt remember my early childhood, nor knew my parents.
I shrugged the thought off. And thanked him for the clothes, not before buying a pair of gloves off of him. I felt that the least I could do was buy the Leathery brown gloves from him after he gave me so much. But I had too admit it was a good experience in Speechcraft.
The tasks grew in number with the cult, though I care little for thier beleifs, they were friendly enough, and soon the Oracle in Ebonheart approached me one morning, as I walked in through the door, I was actually seeing if Kaye another kind Redguard had Shrine Sergeant assisgnment for me, but she assured me that this was more important.
"Sethyas, you have grown strong under the watchful eyes of the nine divines, and they have granted me a vision, a vision of The Ring in Darkness. More than that, I have seen that YOU are the one to find it." she whispered to me.
She told me the whole dream, and made me swear that I would dedicate body and soul to this quest. I was too find a Dunmer Scout and Savant who would reveal details of her vision too me.
Oddly enough, the least likely people too help me, were more than willing to divulge what they knew. After she had sent me on my way, I took the silt strider back too Balmora, and I stopped into the first Bar I saw, The Council Club.
As I walked in I was greeted with a cold "outlander". Thanelen Velas stared at me with cold, red eyes. I returned the look and made my way down too the bar and ordered a Mazte. The Barkeep was decent enough, I smiled at the thought that just a week earlier I had stolen five bottles of his Cyrodilic Brandy.
Savor Trandel walked over to my stool and gazed at me. " Let me offer you a little advice, we dont like outlanders, you."
I looked back at him and rahter then feel scared, I felt confrontational, It was probably the Mazte.
"You got about five seconds too get outta my face before they find your remains floating in the Odai." I snarled.
The threat seemed to work, and his demeanor changed from coldy murderous, to openly freindly, he was clearly intimidated.
"Hey now, settle down, I was'nt serious! Your a not bad for a outlander f'lah!" he said with a slight tremor in his voice.
He then offered me a drink, and we actually had a discussion, I ended up telling him about the Ring in Darkness, and he looked at me and told me that Vision probably meant Nammu, "A place with no name"
Soros Gilnith walked over, and said that she knew that cave, and that there was a ring of water around a natural rock formation. a "Ring in Darkness" just off the coast of Sadrith Mora.
Suffice to say I found the damn cave after about three days of searching, despite my frustration, I felt better in Alteration after casting a Water Walking spell about three hundred times. In the cave I found the Ring of the Wind on Galmis Dren, as I put the Ring on I felt my Awareness of the world around me increase, I could perceive my motions and the motions of others around me with greater clarity. And then I saw him. Jon Hawker, yet another Redguard. After giving him a Divine Intervention Scroll he dissapeared from sight, leaving behind a pair of gloves, they looked just like my gloves except I could sense great power infused in them. One I could tell, would charm others for a short time, the other would give my enemies a sting in the mind alowing me a decisive advantage for a few seconds.
Soon after, the oracle sent me too acquire the Boots of the Apostle. While deep within the caverns, I discovered a skeleton peirced to a stalactite, I pulled out a black dagger in its arm, it was heavy, and looked sinister. I replaced my Wakizashi with it, as my former weapon had served little purpose against some scamps I encountered in the upper levels of Berendas, but searing their flesh with a Tendrams Scorcher Scroll, gave me a macarbre satisfaction.
Down in the dark depths, I could hear unwordly groans, my heart raced, and my Enchanted Glove-clad hand sweated nervously underneath. I sneaked as well as I could toward a body I could see in the distance. My hand then suddenly pulled out the dagger, before I realized it. I was suddenly beaten down from behindby a pair of sharp claws, ripping through my flesh, blood poured down my back. I got up with a spinning kick, hitting nothing. I then casted Ancestor Guardian, calling upon an Spirit to guard me, and put on the Ring I found in Nammu. I lit a torch, and looked around me, and suddenly I saw a Womans Face, I was puzzled for a split second, before I saw that is was connected to a demons body. It was a Winged Twilight! The creature lashed out at me again, but this time I was more than prepared, as the vile thing hit nothing but thin air, as I effortlessly dodged its attacks, The black dagger I found turned out to be more of a blessing than I thought, whatever it was, it could affect this creature, and with three vital blows the creature was felled.
I continued on to the body, and saw them, The Boots of the Apostle, It felt strange taking these boots off of a corpse, I hoped the smell from the carcass did'nt wafte onto the apparell, and strangely enough they didnt. This was a powerful artifact, indeed. I put them on, and felt the power they held as well. The deep reserve of energy in these boots could grant me the power too walk through the air.
And it wasnt a moment to soon as the second guardian, the one I didnt see attacked me. again I was knocked over from behind. This time i threw the torch at the Daedroth and Cast the levitation spell in the boots, casting a Divine intervention in midair.
Back in Gnisis, I swore off Questing for a while. I rested and healed in Hetman Abelmawia's house, he was kind to an obviously wounded adventurer.
Deciding to take a simple walk and contemplate on things here in Vvardenfell, I cake accross a beautiful Breton Female, somewhat north of Gnisis. She was immedeatly flirty and polite. Asking me to recover a ring in the pond. Being a sucker for a pretty face, and admittedly lonely, I found her offer of a "reward" irresistable. I waded into the water, and figured that at least it would be good way to see how my prized new boots wood hold up in water.
I saw the ring and picked it up, not a second after the same voice I heard when I first came too Vvardenfell was inside my head.
"No Good Deed goes unpunished, Outlander."
Suddenly she attacked me, throwing Poisoned throwing stars at me. One actually logged itself in my arm, I felt the potent poison move its way through my bloodstream. Enraged, and seeing double, I leapt up to the rock ridge surrounding the pond, I had never jumped so high, but with my adrenaline pumping it seemed I could do anything. I than suddenly felt an arrow wizz by my head, a narrow escape from death was met by puzzlement again. The Breton woman had no bow on her, where had it come from? realizing that the arrow had come from behind me, I turned around, seeing nothing. Than I saw it, a slight distortion, a could barely make out a figure, looking as though it was stringing another arrow into a bow. The figure was good, but not as good as me. With my speed being superior to the figures, I pulled out my own Bonemold Long Bow, and strung a Arrow, before it had finished, my silver arrow whistled through the air, and lodged itself in the figures head. It became obvious that the figure was a Chitin-Armor Clad, as whatever spell it had cast wore off with its death.
In the two seconds this took place in, I almost forgot about the breton. Almost. She reminded me of her prescence with her yelling some idle threat, and rushing at me with her dagger drawn.
I jumped down from the rock and pulled out my own dagger, dodging her blow, and with a kick, disarmed her. Her dagger falling into the pond that I had just picked up her ring from.
She suddenly looked scared, and started too back off. Looking as though she were about too flee, it did nothing to inspire sympathy in me. Instead her betrayal to kill and rob me only fueled my anger tenfold.
In rage I grabbed her arm, and ran with her yelling and screaming towards the pond. I kicked her knee, forcing her flat on her face. She yelled in pain, as I forced her face underneath the water, the screams became muffled.
I held her like that until her body went limp, I threw the rest of her into the pond. As I walked away, it struck me,..What had I done? This wasnt honorable. It was Cold-Blooded Murder. In rage I had given an unthinkable demise. Yes she would kill me. But I could have been merciful, and ended it all with a stroke of a Dagger. Instead......
I walked over to the body of what was the figure, I ripped off the Mask Helm. It was a Dunmer Woman. So it had been a pair of women. I actually felt pity, who knows what they're real story was? I noticed she had a very nice Amulet on. Ripping it off her neck, I sensed the strong Ilusory powers it held. This was what had made her walk unseen, The Amulet of Shadows.
Two days later I was back in Balmora. I busted into Caius's House for lack of better bedding.
"So Sethyas were you interested in Orders? Or was there something else you wanted?" he asked.
"Something Else." I said curtly. I wasnt in the mood for discussion.
"Well go ahead and use my bed if you want. I never really sleep anyway." he replied.
Glancing at his Skooma pipe hastily stashed underneath the bed, it wasnt hard to wonder why.
The hours passed slowly and in sleep I was haunted by what I had done too that Breton Woman, though the Amulet I had found would prove invaluable, I wonder if I had acted differently?
Waking me, Caiussaid he had another Important mission for me.
"I want you to go to Vivec. There are three informants I want you to get information from." He told me handing me a letter, and a bag of Gold.
I made my way, and then re-read a passage in the book Gilyan Sedas had given me.
"The blood of the hunter and the blood of the hunted. The joy of the hidden and the joy of the seeker. The blood of the eye and the blood of the gate. The joy of the living and the joy of the dead. Are you one with these things? Then, perhaps, your oath and service may please Mephala."
I realized that, though I was no Stranger too Combat and Killing, I had crossed some threshold.
One of these Informants was actually a Morag Tong Assassin, Huleeya was an Argonian, which was strange considering that These Lizard-Men were usually slaves in Morrowind.
After finding getting some information about the Nerevarine Cult from this rather Eloquent Assassin, I asked him about joining the Morag Tong.
He looked me over with expressionless black eyes, and said : "Yes, you may be worthy, your first test is too seek out Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu somewhere here in Vivec."
I looked at him, and showed him the book. And asked him. "Can you at least point me in the right direction?"
"Well...wouldnt the blood of battle take place in an Uhhh-rreee...?"
I thought for a second, and then blurted out. "Arena! Of course!" I slapped myself for being so stupid, the answer was so obvious.
"Swift Hunting, Friend." said Huleeya.
I took off to The Arena, and after searching the Underworks to no avail, I walked artound in the Canal works for a little while, then saw an Ordinator. And decided to ask him if he had seen them.
At first he wouldnt say a thing, either because he didnt like me, or because he was on a lowly detail, or both. But remebering my gloves, I waved my hand and for a few seconds I increased his diposition enough for him to tell me that he does see them from time time, and they usually come through the Arena Storage.
Thanking him, I walked as the spell wore off and he suddenly seemed confused as why he just told this guy such valuable information.
Walking into the darkened Storage Area, I was immedeatley attacked by Large Rats, Slipping out my Daedric Dagger, I made short work of them. After dispatching the rats, I got a feel for the room, there were three doors in the Arena storage, and two of them were locked. Walking over too the left one, I pulled out my Journeymans Lockpick, getting a feel for the tumblers, I motioned the pick, and then turned. The lock came open effortlessly, and walking around the room, I realized that there was nothing in here. But going through the crates, I found several Limeware bowls and cups, quite valuable.
I thought of my prior disgust when Caius had suggested joining the Thieves Guild, and yet here I was actually thinking about stealing these and selling them off. Then I remembered those first few nights on the bitter coast, how dangerous it was to rest on the shore, with all the Alits. Kagouti, and Cliff Racer after Cliff Racer, attacking me. these would fill my Bag with enough gold to get a decent room for the next month.
Swallowing my pride, I filled my bag with them. I still didnt like it, but being a stranger in a strange land, with my gold running low, what choice did I have?
I moved onto the second locked door. This one was a little more complicated, and I had too use a second pick after my prior one broke. Moving into the room, yet another rat attackerd me, and I pulled out the dagger, mercilessly slashing the unending nuisance of these creatures.
Sheathing my dagger, I saw it. A trapdoor. I knew that this door was what I had been looking for, I could soft murmurs coming from inside whatever secrets this door held.
Though this door was but a simple door, absolutely nothing special about it. but I realized passing through it, involved a choice. And if I made the choice to pass through, my life, and myself, would not be the same as this moment.
I took a deep breath, and I pulled on the trapdoor. My motion was met with strong resistance, it was locked, and locked well. I kicked myself for thinking it would be that simple. I set myself to the lock, and for well over an hour, I worked on the complicated set of tumblers, destroying many of the picks I had on my person. The difficulty of the task left no dought in my mind that this was Morag Tong headquarters.
Then, finally, the lock clicked open. I breathed a sigh of relief. Opening the door, I saw a ladder heading down into a well-lit area, and the voices suddenly stopped with the creaking noises I made coming down. Fearful of the unknown, I unsheathed my dagger, and walked slowly down a long corridor, which led to a set of stairs that walked up to a large room.
As I ascended them, I saw a room full of Dunmer in the popular Netch Leather Armor. As well as an Orc walking around. The red-eyed stares gave me a cold chill, I expected to be attacked for entering this halloweed room. But I slowly realized that the stares were not of hostility, but of slight admiration.
A Dunmer Woman approached me, and said softly. "Put away your weapon, none here will harm you, unless you mean us harm. You have found our headquarters, and this speaks well of you. You should speak with Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu, he is upstairs."
I obeyed, and put away the dagger that would be responsible for taking many lives, in the name of Mephala.
"You...have been expecting me?" I inquired.
The Female Assassin actually smiled at me. "In a way, we've heard of your deeds, and your....inquiry to join us in Balmora, was memorable, according to Gilyan Sedas."
I realized that the Morag Tong was probably the best agents of Intelligence on Vvardenfell. Rumors abouinded of them being tight-lipped about everything.
I nodded and smiled at her and walked through the headquarters, the strange faces regarding me cooly, but friendlier than most towns and guilds I had walked into, then happening upon a room, I saw him.
Clad in red Robes with decorative belts, and pouchs for gear. A robe distinctive to the Morag Tong. A black gloved hand rubbed the side of his face, and the Tall imposing Dunmer glanced at me cooly with his red eyes. Sizing me up for a moment, Eno Hlaalu, perhaps the most dangerous assassin in Morrowind, finally spoke.
Without cracking a smile he addressed me by name. "So, Sethyas Velas, you have found me. If you wish, you may request to join the Morag Tong."
This was a second test. Noone would force, threaten, or cajole me. If I joined the Assassins Guild, it was of my own free will.
"I may wish to join, I admit your ways, though strange to me, also appeal too me. I may take the oath.'
I passed the Second test, and Eno Hlaalu visibly lightened up a little.
"Long has the Morag Tong been watching you, and we are pleased. Join us."
Returning his stare, I thought about it for a second. I knew now that I had cold-blooded murder in me, ever since that chance meeting with a Breton Woman.
"Yes. I wish to bring Honor to the Guild." I replied.
My response was met with a stern look of approval. Master Hlaalu walked over to his desk, and pulled out a key, he unlocked a small chest , and considered several small peices of paper for a moment, and then pulled out a rolled peice of paper.
Walking toward me he handed it to me, I unrolled it. I was marked with the name "Feruren Oran" followed by a legal statement giving me absolute authority to murder the personage. Below that was a Red Wax with an Imrprint of a seal, the seal of the Morag Tong. This would let any guard know that this was indeed a legal contract to kill.
"I will give you the authority to act in our name, you are a probationer. Honorably execute Feruren Oran, and join us, fail....and die." he spoke in the deep, cold Dunmer voice.
I looked at him, shocked that he would expect me too kill someone so soon. but this was their way, and this was the third and final test. Did I have the nerve to kill in cold-blood? And did I have the skills of an Assassin? Realizing it would be a mistake to refuse or even to delay the execution of the writ, I accepted and asked him where he was.
"He may be found in the Elven Nations Cornerclub in the Hlaalu Canton here in Vivec, take his life in the name of Mephala. Go now." he spoke with absolute authority and confidence in his voice.
Not wasting a moment, I ran out, and walked accross the cantons, to Hlaalu Compound. I didnt even fully realize what I was doing until I walked into the Club.
My stomach began to have butterflies, and I was nervous, to the point that I couldnt even walk. Ordering the strongest drink I could think of, I sat down and drank a flin, I even thought about calling rhe whole thing off, but what were the consequences of refusing a writ? Could I be marked for assassination for betraying the Morag Tong? Killed by someone who had the nerve too do something that I couldnt, now that would be a death.
As the effects of the alcohol took affect, I could feel my resolve rising, and I felt stronger too. The time for thoughts, and pity, and fear was gone. I stood up and made my way down the corridor to the lower part of the club, halfway down, I called upon the energies in my Amulet, and let the Illusion of Chameleon hide me from the prying eyes of the Innocent. Sneaking as too lower any other concerns, I came behind him, the black-clad figure sat at a Table drinking, just as I had done not a minute earlier.
Crouching behind him unseen, I pulled out the Daedric Dagger, and with my left hand I clamped his mouth shut, and with my right hand I brought the Dagger iinto his ribs, I repeated this motion three times. The other patrons hadnt noticed anything yet, and I held Feruren until the attempts to breathe ceased a few seconds later. Quietly letting his head rest on the table, noone would notice anything until the pool of blood under his seat grew large. Picking up his steel Dai-Katana as a token of my first kill, I snuck back up the stairs, than resumed a normal pace as the Chameleon wore off.
Still under the influence of the Flin, I had a smile on my face, as I walked out of the club, and heard a womans scream.
Walking toward the Arena. I came to my senses, the flase bravado of the alcohol wore off. And I realized I had succeeded. I was an Assassin. I was a killer.
Suddenly, standing there in the dieing light of the sun, and the rising moons of Secunda and Masser, something in me died. I realized I was no longer innocent. I was part of something else now, and that innocence would have no place in it.
I came back to Master Hlaalu, before I had been Suspicious, and aloof. Now I was almost demoralized. It was hard to stomach what I was, and he saw the look on my face. He uncharacteristically showed an ounce of sympathy.
"The first time is never easy, but you are part of a noble cause now. You shoulder the grief and pain that the common man and mer would feel if we did not exist. And though this may not sound right, it gets easier with each writ. My agents tell me that Feruren Oran is dead, and I name you Sethyas Velas, Blind Thrall."
I looked up at him with heavy eyes.
"Thank you,....Master."
Dagon Fel; Present Moment.
I awoke the next morning, dreaming dreams of the last few weeks. Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu had been right, it would get easier with each writ. I had traveled all over this Island to earn my gold, and to take life in the name of Mephala. My gold Bag grew heavier with each Writ, and my skill with a dagger had grew legendary in my Guild. But as with most things, legends were blown out of proportion. I prefered my bow over my dagger, and the thought would be against whatever image my reputation had instilled in the listener.
I thought back to my last assignment. Mavon Drenim. This Ranking Telvanni Noble had probabnly been the reason the Morag Tong was looking to hire new Assassins. I had personally asked for the assignment. Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu who had actually started to act as my patron in the Guild couldnt hide his affection for me any longer.
"Sethyas, please, I know that this Writ is outstanding. But I would prefer to give this assignment to someone else. Mavon Drenim has killed everyone who has tried to honorably execute him. A thousand-year ol;d wizard is not an foe easily felled. You have proven yourself with your writs, truly none could deny your dedication. But you are still too new to our Order. Hold off, hone your skills, come back when you have more experience." he pleaded in a dark tone.
My ears borth lapped up his complements, and was outraged by his lack of confidence in me. For three days after Feruren Oran was dead, I hated him, and the Tong. But most of all I hated myself for joining.
But then when I heard that their was a writ for Ehtal Seltoth and Idroso Vendu, I wondered. I had heard of the Telvanni Murderers. And I remebered what Gilyan had said.
"...so you see, our system allows those who do not deserve the destruction of warfare, the common man, farmers, simple merchants, to live free of that fear. We are noble in that cause, and we respect life, innocent life. The unneccessary taking of that life is grounds for expulsion, and may even result in a writ on you."
I stopped caring only about myself, and I realized that what he said was true. What my patron, Eno Hlaalu, said "We bear the burden, so others do not." was also true.
I was a cold-blooded killer, I was also noble, I was a principled agent of a worthy cause. I thought of my dislike for thieves and random murderers. I WAS different. I DID have honor. If I did not, I wouldnt care about that Breton I killed. Or rather how I killed her.
So I dedicated myself, I took the lives of nobles, and ashlanders. Their deaths would mean that this fragile political system would be held together. And I would profit financially. But as an outlander, I couldnt bring myself to humble myself before Mephala as my fellow guildmembers insisted.
She was a Daedra Prince, a spirit. Not a god. Even the Imperial Cult of which I was a Member never got me to acknowledge the 'divinity' of their nine spirits. Instead I looked to myself, for strength and guidance, and felt others weak in mind and spirit, for not doing the same.
I am a Black Hand, the unseen shadow that uses his mind as his ultimate weapon to overcome any obstacles to his goal, and my new career in the Morag Tong had filled me with a confidence I never felt before. But I reminded myself to stay humble, there was always another more powerful, more cunning.
And I had overcome Serjo Drenim, using my Amulet as a major tool in his demise, My bow, not my dagger had been the tool of his fall from grace. A spell is of no use if you dont know where to cast it. And an arrow through the heart is very hard to heal, especially if followed by another to the head.
My mind snapped back to the present, I was here in Dagon Fel. And I was here to kill yet again. This time, it would be a fell necromancer.
Tirer Belvayn.
I put on my trademark Red Shirt with a Black vest, and slipped the gifted gloves of Zenithar over my Grey hands, one of the fingers stil beared the The Ring of the Wind, with these tools, I had climbed my way too Thinker in the Tong.
Walking out into the now sunny island from my room in the End of the World, I began my hunt for the Velothi Tower that encased the foul wizard. Finding it where Eno had said, I made my inside, Using the Dai-Katana I had found on Feruren Oran to dispatch the Abominations guarding the path to him. Skeletons and Bonewalkers attacked me at every turn. In truth I did not hate them, I felt pity. To have ones corpse used in such a way I found a little more than distasteful. Even the Natives belief that what they did was not necromancy, I found appaling. Even if it was limited and specific in its use, necromancy was necromancy.
Finding him reading at the top of his tower, I again cast the Amulet of Shadows, and strung my arrow of choice, silver, into the Bonemold Bow, pulling back and releasing, the arrow found it way above his heart, instead lodgind itself into his shoulder, a complete miss.
He got up and began screaming, I silently cursed, realizing this was going to be harder than I thought, and pulled out my Daedric Dagger, running toward him with my left palm outstrectched, though he couldnt see it, my hand casted Zenithars Warning, rendering him slightly blind, demoralized. and unable to cast any spells. Not for long, but long enough.
My right hand then swung forward, the blade cleanly slicing through his throat. He fell to his knees, gasping for air, my effect wore off, and I kneeled with him. I held his hand as the fear of death enveloped his eyes. Mercifully I then grabbed his head with both hands, and broke his neck, blood splattering onto my shirt.
I stood up slowly, and grabbed his writ, and bowed my head.
"Rest in peace now, and walk with the Ancestors. And know that everytime one of you dies, a part of me dies too."
I opened my eyes, and slowly walked out of Shara. I would be in Vivec ina few days, and would be Thousand Gold richer. But it still felt like I was selling a big chunk of my soul.
I was waiting in the lower quarters of the Morag Tong Headquarters, rumor had it that there was a large writ being taken place, and with my recent promotion to Knower, as well as my new reputation for being the rising star in the Morag Tong after being the only Agent to execute Mavon Drenim after five outstanding years, and five failed attempts to end his life.
It was strange, though most of my writs were hard to accept, and even made me unable to sleep some nights, I felt no regret, no guilt, in the assassination of the Telvanni Wizard.
While hunting Sarayn Sadus in Sadrith Mora, I had learned a little of this Houses customs, they were open to the game of life and death. Killing an opponent by treachery or deception was openly accepted, and though technically a grounds for expulsion, re-admitance was unquestioned, and freely given.
If not me, than some other Telvanni would certainly have eventually challenged his position.
Ulmesi Baryon, one of the elite agents chosen to house the headquarters, and also a person who had trained me in the use of short blades approached me, and started a conversation on technique. Though the conversation seemed a bit macarbe too me, it was still good to get to know my Guildmembers better.
"Well." she answered me in my question about preference over Marksman versus Short blades.
"..if I'm in a postion, where I am largely undetected, and possibly against numerous opponents, Id rather go for a crossbow, and get in a 'one shot, one kill' and either use an Intervention scroll, or a recall spell to get to safety as the others become alerted to my prescence. As long as the Target is eliminated, my job is done."
I nodded in agreement to the strategy, as talented as I might have seemed on the outside, or by reputation, I was still unsure and insecure about many things internally.
"And what of close-up wet work? What kind of blade do you prefer?" I asked.
"Glass. Sharp as hell, and light enough to carry several back-ups, or different types, as the situation demands. A Glass Jinkblade is invaluable to an Assassin. Speaking of which...whats your favored blade?"
I pulled out the Daedric Dagger, and she gave a genuine look of suprise, the rare, beautiful wepon was a kind rarely seen, and she was equally suprised as the story as to how I aquired it, when I was deep beneath Berandas questing for the Boots of the Apostle.
When asked to see it, she marveled at its edges and intricate design. It also seemed to prompt a suggestion from her.
"You know, this is a sinister weapon, but it also might be holding you back in skill with a dagger..." she said as I gave her a confused look.
"You see, your using the weight of the dagger when you swing it at your target to inflict most of the damage, with a glass dagger..." she pulled out hers and let me feel its weight. It was light as feather compared to my dark blade.
"...you rely more on skill, as in where to lodge the blade to inflict most damage, as well as more of you own strength to impale it. Think of the Glass Dagger as more of a scalpel,relying more on accuracy as well as speed, and the Daedric Dagger as more of a hammer, relying on its own weight. For your next assignment, you may wish too consider trying the Glass Dagger...you'd be suprised."
The conversation did strike a chord in me. Mainly that I had been increasing my skills in stealthy kills, and that until this moment, I had'nt fully realized what I had become, or what I was doing.
I now did. Until now I had been coasting along, taking this with one writ to the next. I realized now, that I had a choice. I could request to retire, to put this as experience to be put behind me, or see this through too the end, whatever it may be.
It was a hard choice. I had grown in the eyes of my guild, who treated me with respect. Even Huleeya, an Argonian, was respected. Perhaps the very definition of an Outlander. And there were rumors, I knew, as to the relationship I had with the Grandmaster, Eno Hlaalu.
Deciding to act as my Patron of sorts, Eno had watched me grow in skill and cunning. Everytime I walked away with a new writ in my hands, he had an equal look of pride and worry in his face. For an Elite Assassin, he had mastered either controlling his feelings, or not having any. Whether this was a weakness he held for me, or a subtle form of manipulation to bring me into the fold, I did not know.
The Orc, Rogdul gro-Bularz, grunted respectfully at me, and told me in his rough voice to go and see the Master. I nodded in compliance, and walked up the stairs.
Eno gave me a look of freindly approval and bid me welcome. He motioned to a seat, and I took it. He sat at his desk, his back too me.
"Knower Velas. It is time I revealed another face of the Morag Tong too you. Many years ago, Black Hands Mephala made a deal with Sanguine for twenty seven tokens she could give to her devoted followers. The Dark Brotherhood stole these tokens from us, but Mephala has arranged for them to return here to Vvardenfell one by one. And so I have chosen you, a proven hunter to find and bring to me the tokens. If you can do this for me, I will take you on as my protege. You will be on the fast track to Exalted Master,...you may even my Successor to lead the Morag Tong."
The news was quite a shock too me. So Eno had had this in mind all along, he was probably ready for retirement and was looking for someone who could lead the Tong after he was gone. At first I was flattered that he would choose me for these assignments. But it was a grave responsiblity, and one that I did not relish in the thought of taking on my already burdened shoulders.
"Allow me some time to consider this, I-I admit I've already had some second thoughts about doing what I do to begin with, now you wish for me to someday lead the Guild?" I stammered out.
"You shall not proceed with one foot out the door, and one foot in. Decide where your loyalties lie Velas." he said sternly, with a dissapointed tone.
As I walked out the room he stopped me with a word.
"Sethyas. You have already started to walk down the path I have laid before whether you know it or not. You remember Guril Retheran?" he asked.
I remembered. He was a Redoran Assassin I had openly killed in the Flowers of Gold club in the Redoran Canton. He had on him a feind Tanto, and a Enchanted Glove that I was not too ashamed to take.
"Yes, I can see that you remember. He had ties too the Dark Brotherhood, that Glove was one of the Threads of the Webspinner."
Shocked, I pulled it out. It was....I could sense the Daedric energy.
"Will you give it too me now?" he asked.
I handed it too him, and walked out. Whether I knew it or not, it had begun.
Still confused and in some pain, I realized that the Religious folk of Vvardenfell had an advantage over me. They had gods or spirits they could turn to in times of need. I didnt have that luxury, I dought that even Caius could help me now.
I thought of the people I had killed, from the Beton Woman whom would have killed me, to Tirer Belvayn, a foul Necromancer.
Walking in the northern areas of Vivec City, I made my way to the Shore near the Silt Strider. I remembered how I felt when I first joined. How I hated myself, Eno, and the Guild. And those feelings were coming back, wrenching at me. As if my old self was holding me back from going over into the abyss.
And the abyss was deep. It was cold, numb, unfeeling. It was everything I wasnt, and everything that I was starting to become. I thought to myself, 'The reason I hate this is because I'm being acknowledged as good and talented at this. If I were to simply go about a few writs every now and then, this might not be as bad.'
I fell asleep on the shores of Lake Amaya that I had come across during my long walk. It was perhaps the first time I had slept well in weeks. I slept restfully until the ghosts of all those I had killed started to come forth to me.
In the dream I was sitting in a dark room, In fact I couldnt see anything except for when the Dark Spirits came forth to me, their faces an ashen grey, all with dry, accusing eyes. Still sporting the fatal wounds I had supplied them with, they started to come closer, levitating off the floor it seemed. The fear and tension grew in me with every inch they crept towrd my trapped, sitting form.
Then when they seemed poised to strike they suddenly turned into long stretching black forms, and they connected to the dark floor underneath me. Suddenly I realized in was in the palms of two giant black hands. My fear vanished, and I felt a cold wind against my face.
Two glowing eyes opened in the distance. And a voice spoke to me. It was Mephala, the Dark Daedra the Morag Tong worshipped.
"In my name have you slain, in my hands have you placed yourself. It is your choice if you walk away Sethyas Velas, but once before you placed your vanity aside to serve something larger then yourself. and I would ask that of you again. Go forth Black Hand, resume the path of the Unseen Shadow, become death's hand, become fear, become the hunter."
The dark request echoed in my mind, and I realized this was no mere dream.
"And what if I refuse? This is not who or what I am! Killing pleases you! It does not me! I am no servant of any Daedra!" I roared at the Shadow.
"Arent you?" the voice taunted. "You who shall bring forth the prophecies of Azura will see in time that you mortals are lost without our guiding hands. And you will also see in time that who we are, is not necessarily connected to what we do."
The last syllable echoed once more, as I rushed back to reality. It was morning. I was dizzy, and as I struggled to get up, I vomited.
The dream became a checkered pattern of rememberance and forgotten moments.
Finally regaining my strength several hours later, I got up. Who we are is not necessarily connected to what we do.
I walked back to the Arena in Vivec, this time I was no longer reluctant, my resistance was gone. I could live in peace with what I did. I thoght that an Assassin had to be cold and unfeeling. But now I realized that I did not have to fall into the abyss.
While most assassins might be ruthless murderers, evil in a sense. A man who kills for a greater need, or purpose, could still be thoughtful, sensitive. Killing like anything gets easier as you do it. But I found a new reverence for life. Before I had formulated the philosophy in my mind, now I was living it. i cherished each moment I was able to take a step, aware of the possibillity that each one could be my last.
I was that same possibility for others. We have no say when our time will come.
Be it at my daggers end, or at the whim of a disease, or at the end of a long, honorable life.
royalblue[/hr]
The novel seems to end here, but then again the last installment was written as recent as January 8th, 2006, so it will most likely continue.
