MTallanvor
August 7th, 2004, 12:42 PM
ok, the rping at HoD has become a bit unorganized, so, whenever there is a mission, i will post it here too, and the rp will be posted here too so here we go:
I am Dagoth Ur and I send messages to all of you to join the House of Dagoth. All members of this clan pretty much have to accept, or the story is kinda pointless. If the unofficial members want to RP too, you can decline my offer and then I'll have to send some of my minions to go and kill you. Or something like that. So all of you, make an RP about yourself, make them your age, your sex, your height, make them exactly like you, but whatever race you want. After you are all done, I'll make an RP about me sending messages to you to join The Sixth House and you will all come to Dagoth Ur and be recruited as sleepers. Then I guess you'll rise through the ranks or whatever...
MTallanvor: After 15 long, hard years of life, Perrin Aybara, the 6 foot, well built, strong Imperial man with a copper tanned skin, with short cropped brow hair stepped outside of the barracks at Moonmoth Legion Fort, just outside of Balmora, wearing his full set of Imperial Guard Armor, including an Imperial Longsword to continue his one-on-one training with the Master of Swords at the fort.
"You're getting better," his instructor told him, "soon maybe you could help defeat that blasted Dagoth Ur!"
"Yeah, right." Perrin said.
Little did Perrin know, that little phrase uttered did not mean he believed he wasn't a good enough swordsman, but that he would eventually be fighting not against Dagoth Ur, but would join ranks, and become a head swordman for the Mighty
House of Dagoth!!
Nightmare: Moranius just got off the boat to Vvardenfell after 17 years in a dark and well guarded Imperial Prison. What did he do? He couldn't remember. Why was a Breton from Summurset Isle sent halfway around the known world to an Imperial prison in Cyrodil? He didn't have a clue. And now why was he sent even farther from his home to Morrowind? No idea. All he did remember about his life is he was originally from Skywatch, a city in Summurset Isle. It was on an island very close to Elsweyr, the home of the savage jaguar-men, who are called Kahjits by some people.
MightyZhangLiao: Moranius would not be the only one getting off this boat. Behind him would slip ot a very crafty and skillful wood elf. He stood around 4'3 and he weighed around 100lbs. He was very muscular for a wood elf. His muscles weren't too big but they were defined. He wore only a pain of black cloth pants that had a chitin dagger tucked in the back. His hair was short and blonde. The elf looked around on the boat's deck, with his cobalt blue eyes, and watched the foolish breton as he pre-occupied the guards. The elf smiled and looked to redguard infront of him "This is where they want you. Head down to the dock and they'll show you to the cencors office." The elf raised an eyebrow at this man with curiosity. He had been to this boat and back many times. Every time this man said these words. The elf merely shrugged and walks down the dock behind the breton only to drop down into the water as the Breton was being questioned. The elf then swims around the tall walls of the office at the same time the breton gets done with his questions inside. As he reaches land he smiles and pulls out a few shiney new gold pieces from his pockets. As he walked foreward the Breton was heading for Casius. The elf then walked foreward to spy a foolish wood elf complaining about loosing a ring. "I would have taken it and sold it if I had found it" It says to the other elf with a smirk. he then heads to the trader's shop so see about buying a chitin curiass he has had his eye on.
Dagoth Ur stands up out of his throne and walks into the entrance room to find six men on the floor, black out. All six had their weapons drawn at the time they were poisoned, which were collected by Dagoth Gilvoth and destroyed. Dagoth Ur used a spell to make them all levitate until they stood up correctly and then he walked over to them and, one at a time, smacked them in the face. They all woke up and looked around. When they tried to move, they couldn't. They were paralysed. "Where are the other two?" Ur asked Gilvoth. Gilvoth replied, "Uunie used owers against the dream you sent to him. He must be the....." Gilvoth cut off. "True Nerevarine." Dagoth Ur finsihsed his sentence. "Yes....I'm afraid so. But the other, the one who calls himself 'Jesus' was found brutally murdered by a Cliff Racer." They both burst into laughter as they pictured the site of a full grown man be murdred by a Cliff Racer. "Well, let's get these men ready." Ur said. All six men, still standing in place, were still looking around this place while the strange characters were talking aong each other. Dagoth Ur walked away and three seconds later, five Dagoths ran out into the room, each bearing a cuirass and a various choice of weapons. Then men were stripped of their clothing and bore with black pants and a 50lbs cuirass. The armor glowed a dark red, like the color of blood. Then, a black robe was slipped over their head and onto their bodies. The robe had a hood on the back. The hoods were left down. Then, the Dagoths each had weapons. The other Dagoths had assorted weapons of all shapes and sizes. They laid them on a table and then laid five cups....filled with a red substance. The men's eyes opened wide as if they had seen this cup before......wait.....yes, they have seen it! In the dream! It is the cup that gave them power! All five men, at sight of this cup, tried as hard as they could to get to it. "Yes, my minions, get the cup, get it. It will enguld you with power." As the men continued to stare at the cups, Dagoth Ur explained to them about the gods, Sotha Sil, Almalexia, and Vivec. "Each must be destroyed, then we can rule all of Vvarndfall!" As the men listened, they became intelligable of this man's power. They could sense how powerful he was......or could be. "Now, drink from the cup, and choose your weapon. Each weapon has a very strong enchantment. The weapon itself will knock you back with power if you try to bear it right away. You need training. That is why I am here. I have a test for you. A seperate test for all of you. Even I cannot tell you what this test it. You must drink from the cup, choose your weapon, but do not bear it, and then, enter one of the five rooms you see in front of you. The room will simulate the worst thing that could ever happen to one of your loved ones. You will see this person, or thing, and you will choose to destroy it, or leave it be. You, and you alone, are in control when you enter the room." Now go, go with pride to be strong enough to be chosen by your Lord, DAGOTH UR MUHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
MTallanvor: Perrin woke up from a very very long sleep. It had seemed like he hadn't opened his eyes for years. When he did, he saw six other people, who he had no idea who were. Then, he saw several ashen looking people scurrying about. They began donning the seven "prisoners" with an odd garb including a 50 pound cuirass a deep red, almost the color of blood. They added a pair of black pants, then topped it off with a blacker than black robe, with a hood, which the people covered their foreheads with. Then they set an array of what looked like highly enchanted weapons on the table. He looked down to where his sword was supposed to be. It wasn't there! Then, the people set in their midst 7 golden cups filled with a pungent red liquid...Perrin had seen this before. Yes! It is the one from the dream! He began to crave its power, and tried to reach out to drink it, but he couldn't! He was paralized. He looked over and saw the other four doing the same thing, with the same result. Then, also from the dream, a man with a golden mask, entered the room, saw them wanting the cup, then said,
"Yes, my minions, get the cup, get it. It will engulf you with power." As they sat bound, the man began to explain how evil the Tribunal was, exclaiming that if they kill all of them, they would become the rulers of Vvardonfell. The man closed saying,
"Now, drink from the cup, and choose your weapon. Each weapon has a very strong enchantment. The weapon itself will knock you back with power if you try to bear it right away. You need training. That is why I am here. I have a test for you. A seperate test for all of you. Even I cannot tell you what this test it. You must drink from the cup, choose your weapon, but do not bear it, and then, enter one of the five rooms you see in front of you. The room will simulate the worst thing that could ever happen to one of your loved ones. You will see this person, or thing, and you will choose to destroy it, or leave it be. You, and you alone, are in control when you enter the room."
At once Perrin could feel himself moving forward, the seven of them racing toward the cup. Perrin took the beautifully carved cup, and turned it up. Savoring every last droplet. He felt more power than ever surging through every vein. He looked at the pile of weapons, and immediately recognized his sword, now with a constant fire running up and down the blade. It looked like the picture he saw once of the sword Trueflame which was supposivley the blade of the Neravarine. But he could sense his sword would be much more powerful. He took the blade, sheathed it, and entered the room.
At once, he recognized his father, lying in the center of the room. He had gashes coving the entirety of his body. Thinking the worst, he bent down, and felt a pulse in his fathers neck.
"You're alive!" he exclaimed!
But, after he said that, almost as if he were being possesed, he pulled his new sword out of its sheath, winced, and struck down, severing his fathers head.
Perrin fell down sobbing in the dust beside his father.
"Why did I do that?! Father, come back!"
Remembering he had to finish what he needed to do to keep his newly found power, Perrin gave one last sob, put his sword back in its sheath, and walked out of the room. Tears still streaming down his face.
He didn't look back once.
Nightmare: Moranius got up and shook off the effects of Dagoth Ur's spells. He went and looked at the weapons on the table. Moranius didn't really like weapons, he usually just had his minions do the work for him. He did like staffs though so he took the large, heavy, blood-red staff on the table. He then followed Dagoth's instructions and drank from the cup. It tasted strange, good, but strange. He felt stronger after he drank from it. Like he could cast and spell without becoming tired, or summon even the strongest Daedra without worrying that they would turn on him. He became smarter and thoughts came to him quickly. He smiled at his newfound powers and went into through the first door. He was floating hundreds of feet above an island. It looked familiar...it was Skywatch! The city he grew up in...the only thing he remembered about his homeland. He loved that city. Lord Dagoth wanted him to destroy it. Should he? Could he? No, he must! But Lord Dagoth told him that it must be done.
Moranius summoned all his strength and cast every summon spell he knew. Suddenly hundreds of daedra were attacking the city. They destroyed everything, killed everyone. After a few hours there was absolutely nothing left. Moranius felt sad, he had loved that city and now it was gone forever. He had killed many of his own people but it was for the greater good, Dagoth Ur said it must be done if he wanted power. And Moranius did want power, as much as he could get.
As soon as the island sunk into the sea Moranius heard a voice. It was Dagoth Ur. He said "Well done, Moranius. I know that must have been hard for you but you've passed my test. You are strong enough to join me."
Moranius looked at Dagoth Ur and said "Yes, it was hard but it helped me. Now I love nothing and emotions can no longer get in the way of my duties. Lord Dagoth's Will be done."
"Excellent, you have learned much," Dagoth said, "now lets see how the others fair with my trials..."
MightyZhangLiao: As Milo entered through the doorway he was met by....Dagoth Ur himself? What was this test to be done...? He then heard a voice..It was Dagoth Ur, but it wasn't comeing from the Dagoth Ur he saw "This is a replica of myself.....Strike me down Milo.." Milo's heart sank. He could not strike down his lord....he had pledged his life to him...."DO IT!" Screamed the voice in his head and he clenched his teeth. "F.....fine..M'lord.." He opened his now solid red eyes and dropped his mighty hammer before rushing foreward with a loud war yell. He smashed his fist into the replica of Dagoth Ur with his full force. The replica shattered upon the strike and he fell to his knees. The voice spoke again "Good...It takes true commitment to the cause to strike down the one you serve when you are commanded. You have passed." He slowly stood and lifted the huge hammer once more. He rested it on his shoulder as he passed through the door of darkness...There was no light where he was heading...
Flame: Shadow crept slowly to the table. Unsure of his footing, as well as his surroundings, was not a feeling he was used to. He drank from the cup, felt as if he had lost his balance, but returned to a normal state of mind from a moment. He reached out and picked up a small crossbow; it could easily send a bolt through the armor of an Imperial, he knew. He had done so for years. Carefully slipping the weapon into the small pocket sewn onto the inside of the robe, Shadow stepped over the threshold of one of the rooms. He once again felt disoriented, and when he returned to himself he found he was leaning against a rock, his legs useless. A guard, the most hated of all people to Shadow, took the crossbow Shadow had kept for years, plucking it out of his hands as if he were a child. The guard raised the crossbow, but not at him. Instead, at his young wife, whom he had not seen for the fifteen years he had been on the run. The slight recoil of the crossbow and the whistling of the bolt passing his head were the only indication of anything wrong. Turning with the celerity bereft of years of secrecy, he watched as the bolt struck the left temple of the most important person of his life. He tried to stand, but his legs proved as useless as before. He lifted himself with his arms, and with all his strength hurled his mass onto the guard. With fist clenched, he plunged his forearm into the soft flesh of the guards stomach. Leaning back against the rock, useless legs dangling near some heather, his left arm bloodied nearly to the elbow, he wept. When his eyes again opened, he was back in the palace of Dagoth Ur. He no longer feared anything this world had to offer.
Kenny: Incesticide ran up to the nearest cup and drank it all in a single gulp. On the table he saw a dagger like his old daedric one but it had the carvings of dagoth Ur on it and it glew gold. Strength filled his body and he felt he could kill dagoth ur himself...but that was a stupid thought so he destroyed it from his mind and entered one of the rooms. Inside the room it was very dark with a small red glow on the floor. As Incesticide walked to the center of the room ajria his friend from the mages guild appered in the middle of the room. She was soaked in blood and was hanging from a rope in the center of the room. The rope was tied around her neck and she started to gurgle. Incesticide gasped and got very angry. He ran to her and tried to get the rope off of her as she gurgled, blood spilling out of her mouth. "finish her!!!", said a deep voice that seemed to come from all directions. "WHAT?!?!?", screamed Incesticide. He was confused, why would he kill his friend? But the strange anger he felt outside ghost gate appeared again. His temper rose as the voice again said "finish her!!!". Finnaly Incesticide caved and jabed ajria in the stomach. Blood poured from her mouth and the rope suspending her disapered and she fell to the floor. Incesticide checked to see if she was alive....no she was dead Incesticide concluded. At the other end of the room a door opened and light poured in. Incesticide walked to the door blood driping from his rope.......
Germanmullet The large Redguard woke up with an insatiable thirst for a new hunger--a hunger for power. Sure, he had always been a bit power-greedy, but this new urge... It was tearing him apart. The only thing he could think of was that it had been brough upon him by his dream, and that the only man who could provide relief for his thirst would be that man, the man with the golden mask. Where could he find that man? Did that image of a red mountain have anything to do with it? It must be. As the images cleared from his head, he finally became aware of his surroundings. It was dark out, he was covered in a thick, reddish fur, and he was surrounded by werewolves, but for some reason, these ones obviously took a disliking to him. Perhaps they were of a society he was not. They contained strange markings on their left chest. Rand slowly stood up and readied himself. He knew not where they had come from or why they had chose him out. All he knew was that he must survive to reach Red Mountain alive and strong. He hoped to find a cure along the way!or was that part of his dream? Could the strange man in the golden mask cure him of this disgusting transformation? Bringing his mind back to the here and now, he sat back on his haunches and threw himself at what looked like the leader.
Pt. 2
Just before he leapt at the leader, he heard strange, guttural voices. He wildly looked around, but didn't see anybody nor anything and the werewolves mouths were not moving. He covered his ears to shut it them out, but it did not work so he finally gave in and tried to make out what it was saying. "You are to come with us. We will give you guidance to the boats to Khuul. From there you must travel to Ald'ruhn in human form using the silt striders, and then on by foot or paw to your new master Dagoth Ur- Finally deciding that the only beings capable of being the one speaking to him would be the werewolves, he directed his questions to the leader. "Are you a servant of the Great Lord Dagoth Ur?" "We are unable to understand the faulty human tongue. Use your mind as it is capable of more wonders than you may know- Very well, he thought and asked the leader his question again. "Yes, I am Perrin Aybara, I recently betrayed Dagoth Ur and was captured by his men. I have been stuck in this enchantment for weeks now and will be forever either until I die or he gives me mercy. Now I will take you the boats to Khuul and from there on, you are on your own- Rand then asked Perrin if Dagoth Ur would be able to cure him of the despicable corprus disease and was told an affirming yes. Following Perrin, he ventured to the boats and bid farewell to the werewolf, and then it vanished. "Well, that was weird," he spoke quietly to himself, startling the boatmaster. The large burly boatmaster said "Where are ya headed, Redguard?" in a gruff voice. "To Khuul, sir," said Rand. "Very well, then. That will be 40 septims!" Rand paid the fare though he thought it high for a trip to Khuul.
When he arrived, he wondered where he should head next. He asked for where the local services were from a friendly commoner who sent him on his way to the silt strider. After making arrangements with the voyage master for the next day, he went to the local inn and got some food to take with him and a room for the night. He asked the innkeeper for a room without a window and to lock and bar the door until the morning after he entered the room. Rand paid no heed to the innkeeper's disgruntled look and went up to his room with a heeping plate of beef, raw, of course. The next morning he saw the room was in shambles and the door had already been unjammed. He walked downstairs, got some breakfast, and gave the innkeeper money for the damages he had caused, and headed to the silt strider port to head to Ald'ruhn. Luckily the trip was faster than it probably should have been!apparently the innkeeper had told the strider master of his destructive behavior, and he made it to Ald'ruhn without incident. Upon his arrival, he noticed something different about himself. His urge for power and the blood that would then come with it had increased greatly upon his arrival in this city and paying no mind to anybody, ran out of the city as quickly as he could towards the setting sun. Almost as soon as he left, his transformation took place and once again, woke up with no recollection of the previous night. He sat up wondering where he was now and an image came again to his head of the strange man in his golden mask. He thought surely then that this must be the great being's domain!he was inside Red Mountain. As if by his thoughts, the door swung open by a supernatural hand. The man stood before him and Rand knew it could only possibly be the Great Lord Dagoth Ur.
After dropping back to the floor, Rand quickly worked his sore muscles from straining against the barrier and then bolted for one of the cups and dumped it into his mouth. He spilled some, or at least he thought he did, as when he went to wipe his mouth, it was dry, as if his face absorbed the liquid. His hand went down to his side and in doing so, he brushed against something hard. He then remembered about the blood red cuirass, but he noticed something different about it. It was as if it was there, but wasn't there like it had been surgically grafted to his body. He then grabbed a hefty two-handed claymore that with his newfound power, he found he could wield it with one hand easily and with the efficiency of it being two-handed. His arms immediately locked up in pain and he quickly sheathed the sword. He knew that it must have incredible powers and could not wait to be able to use that weapon against the Great Lord's enemies. Then he took a large Ancient Steel Tower Shield from one of the Dremoras, slung it across his back, and charged through one of the doors,and found himself at Solstheim as a mercenary again. Long ago, he had been a barbarian mercenary for visiting traders before those from the mainland came and took over his homeland. Ah, well, he had learned to live with them, or rather without them when he became a wandering vagabond but he held little angst against them anymore. Thoughts of his home brought back memories of his beloved wife Stefana Starbird, the most beautiful Wood Elf anyone had ever seen. His hatred for the mainlanders flared up again like it had been so long ago as he slowly remembered the details of her passing. The Barbarian tribes had always shared inner angst against each other, but had stood strong and true against the onslaught of those from the mainlanders as they invaded the land until the last. She had died in one of the greatest battles on Solstheim fighting by his side. Tears started to leak down his face as he continued to remember the horrid details. It had been the lord of the Almsivi temple himself who had slain his wife! The despicable Lord Vivec. Just the name angered him greatly,so greatly, that every time he even thought the name, his eyes turned red. He finally took a look at where he was. He was in an Imperial encampment! How ironic was this? he thought to himself. He fought the urge to just start killing to see where this image took him,he was curious, what could he say? The horses took off to the northwest and he followed along, trying to hide his typical barbaric size by hunching down in the saddle. Most of the way, he looked down at the ground to make the time pass quicker. After an hour or two passed, he looked up and noticed it was quickly approaching dusk. He wondered if the transformation would take place in this hallucination. He hoped not, he didn't need the legion behind him to turn on him all at once. It was quickly growing dark when he noticed an extremely attractive woman. He knew this angel of a woman. This was Stefana Starbird, his remarkable wife in the past. Oh, GOD, no! he thought to himself. Dagoth, you bastard, how could you do this to me! He felt something rising up in him and knew the transformation was trying to take place. He shouted out to her "I LOVE YOU, STEFANA!" just before he turned into a werewolf. He leapt from the saddle straight at her throat, ripped it out in one clean bite. Fighting next to her instead stood his own blood brother. Feeling betrayed, he then next took his head off with one quick swipe of his clawed paw. Next came his father, then his brother's young son, his mother, his sister! And with each senseless murder he committed, he spat another curse inside his mind at Dagoth Ur. And with each one, he quickly took it back. He knew it was for the best, for soon he would sit with his new Great Lord at feast time. There would be great power with Him. Even though on the inside he cringed with pain at each kill, he gave a smile at their shocked faces because the memory of the Red Mountain appealed to him more than his inner angst tore at him. Finally, when all of the barbaric tribes were either dead or retreating, it all vanished into nothingness. A pitch black abyss was all he could see in any direction. Finally, he saw a faint white glow come from the distance. He started towards the light and as he did, he noticed that the light was coming at him faster than he was walking. All of a sudden it rushed up at him and engulfed him and when he opened his eyes, before him stood the Great Lord Dagoth Ur once again.
Go to Vivec and enter the Arena pit. Wait there for maybe a day until I send people to fight you. You must prove yourself in battle. You will have to fight three Dagoths and fifty Golden Saints, five at a time.
Flame: The dark elf emerged from his hiding spot among the trees and waded through the water of the Ascadian Isles. Following the Imperial closely, but careful to remain hidden, difficult for someone of his height, around 5' 10", he watched as the guard entered the walls of Ebonhart. Too long he had hid, biding his time. The world had all but forgotten him, but the guards had not. Almost fifteen years before, he had been accused of a brutal murder in Sadrith Mora. Since then, his only sightings had been by commoners, but in the midnight hours with the robes of an assassin, a clear glimpse was never seen. Since the night of his accusation, he had been known only as Shadow. With his crossbow he had been able to provide food for himself as well as protection.
Shadow examined his newly earned crossbow in the light of the moon. Gone were the scratches of wear and use from his previous tool of murder, the dark stains of blood long dried. This new device felt the same and yet alien, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It appeared a standard crossbow, but it was a great deal more deadly. Shadow followed the path, staying true to his namesake, though none were nearby to witness his passing. The torches of the Ascadian Isle farmhouses were quickly doused as the new servant of Dagoth Ur passed by. The gates of Vivec soon towered in the dark sky, the moonlight reflecting off the waters cast out by the cantons giving the town the look of a many-headed creature rising from the waves, water dripping from each orifice. Gripping the ledge in his bone-breaking grasp, Shadow edged around each canton, avoiding the Ordinators and night-strollers alike.
The Arena was located at the center of the city. As he neared it, gone were the well-meaning residents of this proud city, and apparent were the blood-thirsty bunch of ragged men who came here only to see the lives of others horribly ruined. As soon as Shadow stepped into the upper part of the Arena, he felt at easy. Gone was the need to hide his identity from the Ordinators. Here, lives were lost each day, the murderer set free, the people pleased. Shadow knew that if he were to die here, none would care. If he would win, none would bother to ask his name, under the assumption that next battle he would not be as lucky.
Shadow casually walked over to the nearest crate and removed a Steel Shortshort. Longer than his forearm, it would suffice to combat foes who breached the flurry of bolts he would unleash. He hopped over the low barrier onto the sandy floor of the pit. Running it through his hands, he felt a sense of power, as if this ground wanted him to succeed. He hefted the weight of the crossbow, a weight he had quickly grown accoumstomed to. Out of the corner of his eye he detected a slight movement, as if a portion of the wall had begun to shift. Without breaking his gaze at the sand laying at his feet, he adjusted his grip on the crossbow, turned and fired. With such force, the bolt was released, that it's impact in the wall caused it to bury itself to the last inch. But not before the blood of a Golden Saint spilled onto the sand, staining it a deeper red than natural. Shadow rolled to the left as a glass blade thrust from behind him pierced the air below where his shoulder had been. Removing the shortsword from it's sheath, he pierced the lower back of the Golden Saint which had hidden behind him, driving the point of the blade upward until it made contact with the being's heart. Shadow snatched up the glass blade, leaving his steel one to reside in the dying creature forever more.
The other three golden saints charged from the opposite doorway. Bolts flew from the crossbow, the first connecting with the temple of one, the next tearing a gaping hole through what was an eye socket, the bolt and eye flying through until contacting the wall. The last golden saint was hit with a glancing would, hitting the lower right section of its abdomine. Even that would, which would barely have dented armor, caused it to spin around, collapsing on the sand. With barely a heartbeat after this impact, another bolt was loosed, ending the struggling life of the 5th golden saint.
Taking up a position in a small alcove, Shadow cast bolts out as Sheograth casts out madness. Each bolt fired made the next more skillful, deadly. Before long, bodies littered the sand, now red as the morning sun. His stash of weapons and shields would provide Shadow enough wealth to live happily for the rest of his days, but happiness was not what he had come for. A figure, vaguely man-like, emerged from the northern gate. Another came from the south. A third leapt from the upper pier above Shadow, landing across the arena from him. These three crept forward together, intent on severing each limb from Shadow's body.
A single bolt was released from Shadow's crossbow. A sickening decrease in time let him watch it's perfect trajectory, mastered through the murder of Golden Saints. Just before impacting the center Dagoth, this disfigured man's hand struck like a serpent, snatching the bolt and changing it's course in a way to allow it's momentum to fling it harmlessly away. He charged. The other Dagoths charged. Too long had Shadow relied on the powers he did not fully understand. He charged. Holding the crossbow in one hand and a glass longsword in the other, Shadow's mind raced for a way to survive. The Dagoth on the right flank lifted a heavy Daedric Claymore, clearly too heavy for someone of his size. Watching it fall with the deceleration of time, Shadow's limbs traveled as if underwater. The crossbow rose, pressed against the heart of the Dagoth and fired. Stunned, the Dagoth's eyes shone with an fire as that of the underworld might, with fierce power and a dark reflection. The claymore continued to fall, slashing through the bone of Shadow's right shoulder. The arm, now useless, dropped the crossbow. With a few quick adjustments, the Crossbow was instead in his left hand, the sword lying discarded on the Arena pit. His mind still searching for a way out, he made a single desperate move. Launching a bolt into the sand ahead of the middle Dagoth, he hoped only to slow him. But this servant of evil wasn't expecting an indirect assault. Rolling forward, the bolt instead pierced his foot, pinning him to the ground. Shadow smiled; it was the first thing that had happened better than planned.
The third Dagoth was different than the others. Lacking was the single-minded thirst to kill Shadow. There was a spark of intelligence in his eyes, probably from life as a General or strategist before beholding the power of Dagoth Ur. Dropping the Crossbow and grabbing the sword, Shadow hurled it, spearlike, at the pinned Dagoth. The Dagoth lifted his arms in a last attempt at survival, but failed. The crossbow again rose into a targeting position. The final Dagoth held a bow, long and curved, as if made of bone. The arrow fired traveled with immense speed, but Shadow had plans to win. Dodging left little hope of survival, as collapse on the sand meant an easier shot for his attacker. He did something unexpected; turning so that his right side faced his opponent, the arrow struck his arm, now numb from it's previous injury. Moving as quickly as possible, he used his limp arm as a shield, occasionally firing a return bolt to stall his target. When within feet of the Dagoth, he dropped his crossbow for the third time, instead scooping the sand he had watched for so long into his palm. With the sparkling particles catching the light of torches, it was obvious the Dagoth had not planned for this either as the individual grains stuck to his eyes. The blinded foe pulled out a dagger at swung, succeeding in hitting only the broken arm. The dagger was snatched from a weakened grip and plunged into the lower jaw of this final foe. As the body sank to the floor, Shadow stumbled backwards, knelt down and stared blindly ahead. This world faded, and he was again in the dark torment-world of Dagoth Ur. He was the first gone, and the first back.
Since he was already considered a murderer, Shadow did the only reasonable thing; he joined the Morag Tong. Sneaking through the halls of Vivec to speak with Eno was the only time he came in contact with other living creatures without leaving them dead. These contract killings supplied gold with which to lure those who came too close to his home to their deaths at the hands of Cliff Racers. But, recently he had trouble sleeping, even when convinced none were nearby. His dreams showed him Red Mountain, but rather than the feeling of trepidation he expected, he felt power. One night, well before dawn, he set out. He didn't know where, or why, but he left.
Some of my Sixth House creatures have been captured by the Imperials. They are being held in Fort Buckmoth. Apparently the Imperials were snooping around my lair of Ilunibi. They captured a few of my corprus beasts so they could learn more about what they are and to gain information on the Sixth House. I don't care what becomes of the beasts but I believe the head of the Legion, Drathus Namhort has learned something about our group. If you want, you can free the corprus beasts but your main objective is to see what Drathus knows and if it is something important kill him. If he has told anyone else the information he has then kill them too.
Kenny: Incesticide walked out of the ghost fence dagger in hand and a smirck on his face. Buckmoth wasnt far but it was a whole fort not just a couple guards. The path to the fort was mostly empty except for a couple cliff racers and a rat. These opponents were easily dispatched and this lifted Incesticides spirit. But it quickly went back to a normal level...maybe even below normal as he approched the fort. He had planned his attack on the way to the fort, simple he would go over the mountains in the back of the fort that way he could dispatch the imperial marksman then slip into the fort.
Inces. scaleled the final part of the cliff and saw the marksman making thier rounds. "Fools", Inces. muttered. He quickly snuck up to the nearest guard and slit the mans throat. Blood spewed from the wound driping down to the ground. Lucky it being night no one saw Inces. but the guards had torches so the closer he got to a guard the more visible he'd be. The next marksman was coming Incesticides way. Think fast he took the body of the dead guard and threw it over the fort wall. On the other hand the guard did notice the blood, as the guard started to call down to his fellow men Inces. leaped into the air with dagger in hand. He landed on the man, dagger periceing the mans armor and going through his chest. He gurgled and fell over into a bloody heap. With the marksman dead Inces. jumped down and quietly entered the fort.
This how ever wasnt a good idea, all the candles in the fort were lit and Drathus Namhort the fort leader stood across the room. Drathus knew who Inces was and cryed for the guards. Three guards entered the room, immetiadly Inces drew his dagger and charged the first guard. The blow from Inces sent the man flying, he then hit a wall and fell to the floor unconsious. The other two ran up and swung thier swords at the same time, one missed the other hiting Inces. in the torso knocking him to the ground. He quickly jumped back up and kicked them both off thier feet. Inces. jolted his dagger into both mens skulls one at a time. After inspecting the area most people had fled but Drathus Namhort was hiding under a table sword in hand. "HA some leader", said Inces. He quicly grabbed Drathus by the neck and lifted him two feet in the air. The man gurgled blood driping from his mouth, "You got blood on my shirt sssss", hissed Inces. After saying that he quickly threw the man across the room, even after that the man was still alive Inces. noticing threw his dagger into the mans skull.
After retriving his dagger, Inces. went down stairs to the prison cells. Only two of his sixth house companians remained, an ash slave and ash ghoul. "Come we must hurry back to red mountain", said Inces. The two eagerly following him. Outside was a strange scene the guards all sorounding
the marksman he had killed before. Well...at least he thought it was the man, he was now a corpus beast was rising from the ground. After seeing that the imperial dogs ran in horror. I think I found my daggers enchantment Inces thought to himself........
I require the scroll known as 'The Private Papers of Galur Rithari, Buoyant Armiger'. There are only a few copies that still exist due to the Temple's hatred of all things dark and "evil" but once there were hundreds of copies. I'm interested in the vampire's great strength and regenerative abilities. This scroll may give clues on why vampires are like they are. Whoever gets me this scroll will be rewarded greatly. I know of only one copy which is in the Secret Library in Vivec. It will be well guarded.
MTallanvor: Perrin stepped off the siltstrider stand into a cool spring morning. Dew was still wet upon the ground. In the distance he could hear in one ear, the majectic sound of the wilderness to the north, and in the other, he could hear the constant hawking of Vvardenfell's largest town. He stepped over the bridge, connecting the mainland to the Foreign Quarter. He remebered his father telling him that the Foreign Quarter used to be the only place Outlanders were allowed. Thankfully, it was a new age.
Perrin nodded to a few locals on his way towards the gondolier stand, just west of the main bridge.
"Where can I take you today?" the gondolier asked in a cheery voice.
"How much is it to get to the Palace from here?" Perrin asked as he yawned.
"5 gold pieces."
"My that is a lovely hat, do you get those when you take on such a marvelous job such as gondoliering?"
"Why, yes, it is a fine job. You know, I'll take you to the Palace on the house today. And yes, you do get the hat with the job." The gondolier chuckled. Just what Perrin wanted him to say.
Perrin sat amid the rhythmic side-to-side motion of the small boat he was in, trailing his hand among the lazy ripples from the wind. He looked up at the large mass of floating city to his left. He had been to Vivec occasionally, but not for what he was there for today.
"Thank you." Perrin said, as he shook the gondolier's hand. Stepping off the platform, he saw two odd statues on either side of what looked like a long tunnel up a flight of stairs. He remembered what his master said about the "Secrect Library". Under a rug in the Canon Offices of the Justice Hall. He opened the door labeled "Hall of Justice" to a long corridor. To the left and right of him, several sets of stairs wound up to their respective offices. He continued looking until the found the right door labled "Canon Offices" and walked in.
There was a lone ordinator standing guard in the small room, he could see an indention in the rug where the trapdoor to the secret library was.
"You're not supposed to be in here!" The ordinator exclaimed.
"Wait, wait, this isn't the Library of Vivec?" Perrin asked, pulling out a map of the twin halls, bringing the guard in close to him. With the guards back to the trapdoor, Perrin casted a spell to unlock the door without the guard noticing. He didn't.
Perrin purposefully created the map to be confusing, so the guard took it in both hands trying to figure it out. While doing so, Perrin pulled out his fire-wrought sword out of its sheath.
"What's that light? Arghh!" The guards mumble was not translatable as the blade sliced through the middle of his forehead.
"I think I found it, thanks." Perrin said to the still quivering corpse.
As Perrin decended into the library, he could hear the audible gasps of the people in it. They could see the flames licking up his sword.
Perrin hopped down the last couple of steps, and turned around, slicing the arm holding the ebony mace that was heading for Perrin's back off of the ordinators socket.
"Unless you feel like living without certain body parts, I suggest moving up against this wall. You." Perrin said, pointing at the lone scholar in the midst of 5 guards. "Do you know where the 'Private Papers of Galur Rithari, Buoyant Armiger' might possibly be?"
Perrin gave a gut wrenching smirk towards the guards standing helplessly against the wall as the scholar sorted through papers.
"H-h-h-ere y-you are s-s-ir." the scholar stammered.
"Thank you, no, Kaye thanks you, he certainly will enjoy this.
Well, I certainly don't want to break up this lovely party, but, I really must dash. Ta-ta." Perrin said, simutainiously casting a Divine Intervention spell. Hurtling him to the Dock at Ebonheart.
"Ha, I bet they'll be fussin' over that old Imperial Cult leader for some time now." Perrin mused over his treachery.
Stepping onto the boat, Perrin told the captain to take him just to his next stop. He continued doing so for a few days, until news of the theft had died down. Though as he took a deep sigh of relief and sat down at Ebonheart that day, he could have sworn he heard in his head a spoken deep, ominous, "Well done."
I want an item that is called the Death Stone. It is a mysterious rock with great necromantic powers. After I am done studying it I will make it into a weapon of great power or create an undead servant for whoever gets this item for me. It is located in the Duab Ancestrial Tomb which is located south of Ald-ruhn. Be careful because the tomb is full of traps and undead creatures.
Flame: Shadow had grown tired of the cities, where any no-name peasant could discover his identity. He had jumped at the idea of raiding a tomb, one of the few ways he had survived after his false conviction. A journey on foot, harassed by Cliff Racers of course, quickly led Shadow to Ald'Ruhn. An ash storm, helpfully provided by Red Mountain, made it difficult for anyone to see more than a few feet ahead of them, letting Shadow avoid notice of the skirt-wearing Redoran guards. In minutes, he had cleared the city and began traveling south along a worn path.
Finding the Duab Tomb proved little difficulty, just off the path he had been following. Checking his crossbow to insure it still functioned, and assuring himself that the silver dagger was still in its sheath, he stepped across the threshold into the tomb. A long staircase led down to a closed door, probably locked. Shadow snatched his knife and pried the torch off it's mounting in the wall. Kneeling to examine the door, he pulled out a lockpick to open it, a simple lock that any amatuer theif could open. As the lockpick neared the locking mechanism, a trap sprung and bittergreen acid poured from a miniscule opening in the ceiling. Diving back, Shadow managed to escape the burn of the liquid with the exception of a small portion of his left ankle. Wincing, he stood up and managed to unlock the door without further incident. Tossing his plundered torch inside the room ahead of him, it landed with a clutter in a pile of broken bones. As Shadow crept closer, it was apparent that it was a reanimated skeleton that was recently put down; the sword still held in it's grasp bore little signs of dust.
Searching the room, Shadow found nothing but the remains of the dead and a door, leading further into the tomb. Suprisingly, this door stood with no lock, not even closed. Paranoid because of his previous encounter, Shadow stood behind the door as he opened it. The corpse of a man, little over thirty, tumbled forward, crashing against the dusty floor. Sticking from the man's back was a sharpened bone, and the look on the man's face was one of suprise rather than horror. Shadow did not believe for a second he was killed by the undead.
Shadow stepped through the opened door, over the corpse still smelling faintly of blood, when his ankle, burned from the acid, decided to weaken. Falling to the ground uncerimoniously, Shadow suddenly heard a faint whistle. Looking over his head, he spotted the still quivering arrow that had fired at what would have been his neck, had he not fallen. Scraping sounds came from the hallway ahead as it turned sharply to the right. Holding his crossbow in his left hand and the silver dagger in the right, he pressed his back against the wall and moved slowly towards the corner. Rolling his head along the wall to peer around the corner, he was confronted with the point of a sword. Someone had been expecting him. Rolling backwards, normally ending in a crouch, Shadow collided with the wall behind him. Lifting the crossbow, he fired at the enemy, suprisingly a man rather than a skeleton, and pushed against the wall with his right foot. As soon as his weight was transferred to his left leg, the ankle once again weakened. Spilled onto the floor like rubbish from a tipped crate, he peered at the face of his attacker. The sword was stabbing at him. Shifting to the left, the blade barely missed him, and he caught the hand of his attacker still on the hilt. Pulling down with his left hand and lunging forward with his right, holding the silver dagger, he plunged the short blade deep within the skull of the man.
Grabbing the crossbow he had dropped in the fight, he began to move again. Another locked door, but with a little work he had opened it. Kicking the door in, he took one step to be assailed by a fireball larger than his head. He closed the door, but before he had it shut the fireball impacted, residual fire burning the left side of his face. Upon opening the door again, he was suprised to see the end of this tomb. At the top of a short set of stairs, only 6, sat a man facing the other direction. Hefting the crossbow, Shadow fired a bolt at the back of the man's skull. It impacted, the barbed point driving through the skull to emerge through the bridge of the man's nose. He stood up, turned around and glared at shadow with eyes solid black. A thin trickle of blood had worked its way down his face, now dripping onto the floor. The man payed no attention to the bolt that had pierced his flesh, instead calling something unintelligible.
Without warning, a man jumped off a pillar situated to the right of Shadow. With the glowing eyes of a vampire, it landed with a grace that belied it's great age. Thinking quickly, Shadow hurled the silver knife at the heart of the vampire, but it deflected it as if swatting a fly. The vampire stopped in it's tracks, pointing at Shadow's injured ankle. Closer examination showed that the damage had spread, but the point of impact had become black, in the early stages of decay. A fearful look was in the vampire's eyes, and Shadow had a quick wit. He pointed at the vampire's hand, and the horrid creature's eyes grew wide. As it's head moved to check it's hand for the signs of decay, Shadow let loose a flurry of bolts into the top of the vampire's skull. It dropped dead with a moist splat, four bolts sticking into it's cranium, one through it's forehead.
The man at the top of the steps gave a start. Never had it expected it's vampire to be killed so easily. Shadow began to fire bolts, when suddenly the crossbow in his hands grew hot. Before long, he was forced to throw it or have his clothing catch fire. Left with little option and refusing to fail Dagoth Ur, he charged forward, weaponless. Grappling with the man, he became aware of his enemy's imense strength. Nearly defeated, Shadow noticed a glint of light. A stone about the size of his fist, carved with runes, glowed faintly inside the man's pocket. With a savage kick, he forced his assailant away and tore the pocket loose, snatching the stone before it fell. With a horrific expression, the man noticed the bolt still in his skull, and fell over dead.
Within seconds of falling, the man's corpse had rotted at an extreme rate, leaving nothing but a light marking on the floor. This must be the Death Stone, to forestall death so long for one man. Shadow set off for Red Mountain, his ankle already feeling better.
if i left out any rps...just pm me...this took me a while and i probably did leave out a few
I am Dagoth Ur and I send messages to all of you to join the House of Dagoth. All members of this clan pretty much have to accept, or the story is kinda pointless. If the unofficial members want to RP too, you can decline my offer and then I'll have to send some of my minions to go and kill you. Or something like that. So all of you, make an RP about yourself, make them your age, your sex, your height, make them exactly like you, but whatever race you want. After you are all done, I'll make an RP about me sending messages to you to join The Sixth House and you will all come to Dagoth Ur and be recruited as sleepers. Then I guess you'll rise through the ranks or whatever...
MTallanvor: After 15 long, hard years of life, Perrin Aybara, the 6 foot, well built, strong Imperial man with a copper tanned skin, with short cropped brow hair stepped outside of the barracks at Moonmoth Legion Fort, just outside of Balmora, wearing his full set of Imperial Guard Armor, including an Imperial Longsword to continue his one-on-one training with the Master of Swords at the fort.
"You're getting better," his instructor told him, "soon maybe you could help defeat that blasted Dagoth Ur!"
"Yeah, right." Perrin said.
Little did Perrin know, that little phrase uttered did not mean he believed he wasn't a good enough swordsman, but that he would eventually be fighting not against Dagoth Ur, but would join ranks, and become a head swordman for the Mighty
House of Dagoth!!
Nightmare: Moranius just got off the boat to Vvardenfell after 17 years in a dark and well guarded Imperial Prison. What did he do? He couldn't remember. Why was a Breton from Summurset Isle sent halfway around the known world to an Imperial prison in Cyrodil? He didn't have a clue. And now why was he sent even farther from his home to Morrowind? No idea. All he did remember about his life is he was originally from Skywatch, a city in Summurset Isle. It was on an island very close to Elsweyr, the home of the savage jaguar-men, who are called Kahjits by some people.
MightyZhangLiao: Moranius would not be the only one getting off this boat. Behind him would slip ot a very crafty and skillful wood elf. He stood around 4'3 and he weighed around 100lbs. He was very muscular for a wood elf. His muscles weren't too big but they were defined. He wore only a pain of black cloth pants that had a chitin dagger tucked in the back. His hair was short and blonde. The elf looked around on the boat's deck, with his cobalt blue eyes, and watched the foolish breton as he pre-occupied the guards. The elf smiled and looked to redguard infront of him "This is where they want you. Head down to the dock and they'll show you to the cencors office." The elf raised an eyebrow at this man with curiosity. He had been to this boat and back many times. Every time this man said these words. The elf merely shrugged and walks down the dock behind the breton only to drop down into the water as the Breton was being questioned. The elf then swims around the tall walls of the office at the same time the breton gets done with his questions inside. As he reaches land he smiles and pulls out a few shiney new gold pieces from his pockets. As he walked foreward the Breton was heading for Casius. The elf then walked foreward to spy a foolish wood elf complaining about loosing a ring. "I would have taken it and sold it if I had found it" It says to the other elf with a smirk. he then heads to the trader's shop so see about buying a chitin curiass he has had his eye on.
Dagoth Ur stands up out of his throne and walks into the entrance room to find six men on the floor, black out. All six had their weapons drawn at the time they were poisoned, which were collected by Dagoth Gilvoth and destroyed. Dagoth Ur used a spell to make them all levitate until they stood up correctly and then he walked over to them and, one at a time, smacked them in the face. They all woke up and looked around. When they tried to move, they couldn't. They were paralysed. "Where are the other two?" Ur asked Gilvoth. Gilvoth replied, "Uunie used owers against the dream you sent to him. He must be the....." Gilvoth cut off. "True Nerevarine." Dagoth Ur finsihsed his sentence. "Yes....I'm afraid so. But the other, the one who calls himself 'Jesus' was found brutally murdered by a Cliff Racer." They both burst into laughter as they pictured the site of a full grown man be murdred by a Cliff Racer. "Well, let's get these men ready." Ur said. All six men, still standing in place, were still looking around this place while the strange characters were talking aong each other. Dagoth Ur walked away and three seconds later, five Dagoths ran out into the room, each bearing a cuirass and a various choice of weapons. Then men were stripped of their clothing and bore with black pants and a 50lbs cuirass. The armor glowed a dark red, like the color of blood. Then, a black robe was slipped over their head and onto their bodies. The robe had a hood on the back. The hoods were left down. Then, the Dagoths each had weapons. The other Dagoths had assorted weapons of all shapes and sizes. They laid them on a table and then laid five cups....filled with a red substance. The men's eyes opened wide as if they had seen this cup before......wait.....yes, they have seen it! In the dream! It is the cup that gave them power! All five men, at sight of this cup, tried as hard as they could to get to it. "Yes, my minions, get the cup, get it. It will enguld you with power." As the men continued to stare at the cups, Dagoth Ur explained to them about the gods, Sotha Sil, Almalexia, and Vivec. "Each must be destroyed, then we can rule all of Vvarndfall!" As the men listened, they became intelligable of this man's power. They could sense how powerful he was......or could be. "Now, drink from the cup, and choose your weapon. Each weapon has a very strong enchantment. The weapon itself will knock you back with power if you try to bear it right away. You need training. That is why I am here. I have a test for you. A seperate test for all of you. Even I cannot tell you what this test it. You must drink from the cup, choose your weapon, but do not bear it, and then, enter one of the five rooms you see in front of you. The room will simulate the worst thing that could ever happen to one of your loved ones. You will see this person, or thing, and you will choose to destroy it, or leave it be. You, and you alone, are in control when you enter the room." Now go, go with pride to be strong enough to be chosen by your Lord, DAGOTH UR MUHAHAHAHAHA!!!"
MTallanvor: Perrin woke up from a very very long sleep. It had seemed like he hadn't opened his eyes for years. When he did, he saw six other people, who he had no idea who were. Then, he saw several ashen looking people scurrying about. They began donning the seven "prisoners" with an odd garb including a 50 pound cuirass a deep red, almost the color of blood. They added a pair of black pants, then topped it off with a blacker than black robe, with a hood, which the people covered their foreheads with. Then they set an array of what looked like highly enchanted weapons on the table. He looked down to where his sword was supposed to be. It wasn't there! Then, the people set in their midst 7 golden cups filled with a pungent red liquid...Perrin had seen this before. Yes! It is the one from the dream! He began to crave its power, and tried to reach out to drink it, but he couldn't! He was paralized. He looked over and saw the other four doing the same thing, with the same result. Then, also from the dream, a man with a golden mask, entered the room, saw them wanting the cup, then said,
"Yes, my minions, get the cup, get it. It will engulf you with power." As they sat bound, the man began to explain how evil the Tribunal was, exclaiming that if they kill all of them, they would become the rulers of Vvardonfell. The man closed saying,
"Now, drink from the cup, and choose your weapon. Each weapon has a very strong enchantment. The weapon itself will knock you back with power if you try to bear it right away. You need training. That is why I am here. I have a test for you. A seperate test for all of you. Even I cannot tell you what this test it. You must drink from the cup, choose your weapon, but do not bear it, and then, enter one of the five rooms you see in front of you. The room will simulate the worst thing that could ever happen to one of your loved ones. You will see this person, or thing, and you will choose to destroy it, or leave it be. You, and you alone, are in control when you enter the room."
At once Perrin could feel himself moving forward, the seven of them racing toward the cup. Perrin took the beautifully carved cup, and turned it up. Savoring every last droplet. He felt more power than ever surging through every vein. He looked at the pile of weapons, and immediately recognized his sword, now with a constant fire running up and down the blade. It looked like the picture he saw once of the sword Trueflame which was supposivley the blade of the Neravarine. But he could sense his sword would be much more powerful. He took the blade, sheathed it, and entered the room.
At once, he recognized his father, lying in the center of the room. He had gashes coving the entirety of his body. Thinking the worst, he bent down, and felt a pulse in his fathers neck.
"You're alive!" he exclaimed!
But, after he said that, almost as if he were being possesed, he pulled his new sword out of its sheath, winced, and struck down, severing his fathers head.
Perrin fell down sobbing in the dust beside his father.
"Why did I do that?! Father, come back!"
Remembering he had to finish what he needed to do to keep his newly found power, Perrin gave one last sob, put his sword back in its sheath, and walked out of the room. Tears still streaming down his face.
He didn't look back once.
Nightmare: Moranius got up and shook off the effects of Dagoth Ur's spells. He went and looked at the weapons on the table. Moranius didn't really like weapons, he usually just had his minions do the work for him. He did like staffs though so he took the large, heavy, blood-red staff on the table. He then followed Dagoth's instructions and drank from the cup. It tasted strange, good, but strange. He felt stronger after he drank from it. Like he could cast and spell without becoming tired, or summon even the strongest Daedra without worrying that they would turn on him. He became smarter and thoughts came to him quickly. He smiled at his newfound powers and went into through the first door. He was floating hundreds of feet above an island. It looked familiar...it was Skywatch! The city he grew up in...the only thing he remembered about his homeland. He loved that city. Lord Dagoth wanted him to destroy it. Should he? Could he? No, he must! But Lord Dagoth told him that it must be done.
Moranius summoned all his strength and cast every summon spell he knew. Suddenly hundreds of daedra were attacking the city. They destroyed everything, killed everyone. After a few hours there was absolutely nothing left. Moranius felt sad, he had loved that city and now it was gone forever. He had killed many of his own people but it was for the greater good, Dagoth Ur said it must be done if he wanted power. And Moranius did want power, as much as he could get.
As soon as the island sunk into the sea Moranius heard a voice. It was Dagoth Ur. He said "Well done, Moranius. I know that must have been hard for you but you've passed my test. You are strong enough to join me."
Moranius looked at Dagoth Ur and said "Yes, it was hard but it helped me. Now I love nothing and emotions can no longer get in the way of my duties. Lord Dagoth's Will be done."
"Excellent, you have learned much," Dagoth said, "now lets see how the others fair with my trials..."
MightyZhangLiao: As Milo entered through the doorway he was met by....Dagoth Ur himself? What was this test to be done...? He then heard a voice..It was Dagoth Ur, but it wasn't comeing from the Dagoth Ur he saw "This is a replica of myself.....Strike me down Milo.." Milo's heart sank. He could not strike down his lord....he had pledged his life to him...."DO IT!" Screamed the voice in his head and he clenched his teeth. "F.....fine..M'lord.." He opened his now solid red eyes and dropped his mighty hammer before rushing foreward with a loud war yell. He smashed his fist into the replica of Dagoth Ur with his full force. The replica shattered upon the strike and he fell to his knees. The voice spoke again "Good...It takes true commitment to the cause to strike down the one you serve when you are commanded. You have passed." He slowly stood and lifted the huge hammer once more. He rested it on his shoulder as he passed through the door of darkness...There was no light where he was heading...
Flame: Shadow crept slowly to the table. Unsure of his footing, as well as his surroundings, was not a feeling he was used to. He drank from the cup, felt as if he had lost his balance, but returned to a normal state of mind from a moment. He reached out and picked up a small crossbow; it could easily send a bolt through the armor of an Imperial, he knew. He had done so for years. Carefully slipping the weapon into the small pocket sewn onto the inside of the robe, Shadow stepped over the threshold of one of the rooms. He once again felt disoriented, and when he returned to himself he found he was leaning against a rock, his legs useless. A guard, the most hated of all people to Shadow, took the crossbow Shadow had kept for years, plucking it out of his hands as if he were a child. The guard raised the crossbow, but not at him. Instead, at his young wife, whom he had not seen for the fifteen years he had been on the run. The slight recoil of the crossbow and the whistling of the bolt passing his head were the only indication of anything wrong. Turning with the celerity bereft of years of secrecy, he watched as the bolt struck the left temple of the most important person of his life. He tried to stand, but his legs proved as useless as before. He lifted himself with his arms, and with all his strength hurled his mass onto the guard. With fist clenched, he plunged his forearm into the soft flesh of the guards stomach. Leaning back against the rock, useless legs dangling near some heather, his left arm bloodied nearly to the elbow, he wept. When his eyes again opened, he was back in the palace of Dagoth Ur. He no longer feared anything this world had to offer.
Kenny: Incesticide ran up to the nearest cup and drank it all in a single gulp. On the table he saw a dagger like his old daedric one but it had the carvings of dagoth Ur on it and it glew gold. Strength filled his body and he felt he could kill dagoth ur himself...but that was a stupid thought so he destroyed it from his mind and entered one of the rooms. Inside the room it was very dark with a small red glow on the floor. As Incesticide walked to the center of the room ajria his friend from the mages guild appered in the middle of the room. She was soaked in blood and was hanging from a rope in the center of the room. The rope was tied around her neck and she started to gurgle. Incesticide gasped and got very angry. He ran to her and tried to get the rope off of her as she gurgled, blood spilling out of her mouth. "finish her!!!", said a deep voice that seemed to come from all directions. "WHAT?!?!?", screamed Incesticide. He was confused, why would he kill his friend? But the strange anger he felt outside ghost gate appeared again. His temper rose as the voice again said "finish her!!!". Finnaly Incesticide caved and jabed ajria in the stomach. Blood poured from her mouth and the rope suspending her disapered and she fell to the floor. Incesticide checked to see if she was alive....no she was dead Incesticide concluded. At the other end of the room a door opened and light poured in. Incesticide walked to the door blood driping from his rope.......
Germanmullet The large Redguard woke up with an insatiable thirst for a new hunger--a hunger for power. Sure, he had always been a bit power-greedy, but this new urge... It was tearing him apart. The only thing he could think of was that it had been brough upon him by his dream, and that the only man who could provide relief for his thirst would be that man, the man with the golden mask. Where could he find that man? Did that image of a red mountain have anything to do with it? It must be. As the images cleared from his head, he finally became aware of his surroundings. It was dark out, he was covered in a thick, reddish fur, and he was surrounded by werewolves, but for some reason, these ones obviously took a disliking to him. Perhaps they were of a society he was not. They contained strange markings on their left chest. Rand slowly stood up and readied himself. He knew not where they had come from or why they had chose him out. All he knew was that he must survive to reach Red Mountain alive and strong. He hoped to find a cure along the way!or was that part of his dream? Could the strange man in the golden mask cure him of this disgusting transformation? Bringing his mind back to the here and now, he sat back on his haunches and threw himself at what looked like the leader.
Pt. 2
Just before he leapt at the leader, he heard strange, guttural voices. He wildly looked around, but didn't see anybody nor anything and the werewolves mouths were not moving. He covered his ears to shut it them out, but it did not work so he finally gave in and tried to make out what it was saying. "You are to come with us. We will give you guidance to the boats to Khuul. From there you must travel to Ald'ruhn in human form using the silt striders, and then on by foot or paw to your new master Dagoth Ur- Finally deciding that the only beings capable of being the one speaking to him would be the werewolves, he directed his questions to the leader. "Are you a servant of the Great Lord Dagoth Ur?" "We are unable to understand the faulty human tongue. Use your mind as it is capable of more wonders than you may know- Very well, he thought and asked the leader his question again. "Yes, I am Perrin Aybara, I recently betrayed Dagoth Ur and was captured by his men. I have been stuck in this enchantment for weeks now and will be forever either until I die or he gives me mercy. Now I will take you the boats to Khuul and from there on, you are on your own- Rand then asked Perrin if Dagoth Ur would be able to cure him of the despicable corprus disease and was told an affirming yes. Following Perrin, he ventured to the boats and bid farewell to the werewolf, and then it vanished. "Well, that was weird," he spoke quietly to himself, startling the boatmaster. The large burly boatmaster said "Where are ya headed, Redguard?" in a gruff voice. "To Khuul, sir," said Rand. "Very well, then. That will be 40 septims!" Rand paid the fare though he thought it high for a trip to Khuul.
When he arrived, he wondered where he should head next. He asked for where the local services were from a friendly commoner who sent him on his way to the silt strider. After making arrangements with the voyage master for the next day, he went to the local inn and got some food to take with him and a room for the night. He asked the innkeeper for a room without a window and to lock and bar the door until the morning after he entered the room. Rand paid no heed to the innkeeper's disgruntled look and went up to his room with a heeping plate of beef, raw, of course. The next morning he saw the room was in shambles and the door had already been unjammed. He walked downstairs, got some breakfast, and gave the innkeeper money for the damages he had caused, and headed to the silt strider port to head to Ald'ruhn. Luckily the trip was faster than it probably should have been!apparently the innkeeper had told the strider master of his destructive behavior, and he made it to Ald'ruhn without incident. Upon his arrival, he noticed something different about himself. His urge for power and the blood that would then come with it had increased greatly upon his arrival in this city and paying no mind to anybody, ran out of the city as quickly as he could towards the setting sun. Almost as soon as he left, his transformation took place and once again, woke up with no recollection of the previous night. He sat up wondering where he was now and an image came again to his head of the strange man in his golden mask. He thought surely then that this must be the great being's domain!he was inside Red Mountain. As if by his thoughts, the door swung open by a supernatural hand. The man stood before him and Rand knew it could only possibly be the Great Lord Dagoth Ur.
After dropping back to the floor, Rand quickly worked his sore muscles from straining against the barrier and then bolted for one of the cups and dumped it into his mouth. He spilled some, or at least he thought he did, as when he went to wipe his mouth, it was dry, as if his face absorbed the liquid. His hand went down to his side and in doing so, he brushed against something hard. He then remembered about the blood red cuirass, but he noticed something different about it. It was as if it was there, but wasn't there like it had been surgically grafted to his body. He then grabbed a hefty two-handed claymore that with his newfound power, he found he could wield it with one hand easily and with the efficiency of it being two-handed. His arms immediately locked up in pain and he quickly sheathed the sword. He knew that it must have incredible powers and could not wait to be able to use that weapon against the Great Lord's enemies. Then he took a large Ancient Steel Tower Shield from one of the Dremoras, slung it across his back, and charged through one of the doors,and found himself at Solstheim as a mercenary again. Long ago, he had been a barbarian mercenary for visiting traders before those from the mainland came and took over his homeland. Ah, well, he had learned to live with them, or rather without them when he became a wandering vagabond but he held little angst against them anymore. Thoughts of his home brought back memories of his beloved wife Stefana Starbird, the most beautiful Wood Elf anyone had ever seen. His hatred for the mainlanders flared up again like it had been so long ago as he slowly remembered the details of her passing. The Barbarian tribes had always shared inner angst against each other, but had stood strong and true against the onslaught of those from the mainlanders as they invaded the land until the last. She had died in one of the greatest battles on Solstheim fighting by his side. Tears started to leak down his face as he continued to remember the horrid details. It had been the lord of the Almsivi temple himself who had slain his wife! The despicable Lord Vivec. Just the name angered him greatly,so greatly, that every time he even thought the name, his eyes turned red. He finally took a look at where he was. He was in an Imperial encampment! How ironic was this? he thought to himself. He fought the urge to just start killing to see where this image took him,he was curious, what could he say? The horses took off to the northwest and he followed along, trying to hide his typical barbaric size by hunching down in the saddle. Most of the way, he looked down at the ground to make the time pass quicker. After an hour or two passed, he looked up and noticed it was quickly approaching dusk. He wondered if the transformation would take place in this hallucination. He hoped not, he didn't need the legion behind him to turn on him all at once. It was quickly growing dark when he noticed an extremely attractive woman. He knew this angel of a woman. This was Stefana Starbird, his remarkable wife in the past. Oh, GOD, no! he thought to himself. Dagoth, you bastard, how could you do this to me! He felt something rising up in him and knew the transformation was trying to take place. He shouted out to her "I LOVE YOU, STEFANA!" just before he turned into a werewolf. He leapt from the saddle straight at her throat, ripped it out in one clean bite. Fighting next to her instead stood his own blood brother. Feeling betrayed, he then next took his head off with one quick swipe of his clawed paw. Next came his father, then his brother's young son, his mother, his sister! And with each senseless murder he committed, he spat another curse inside his mind at Dagoth Ur. And with each one, he quickly took it back. He knew it was for the best, for soon he would sit with his new Great Lord at feast time. There would be great power with Him. Even though on the inside he cringed with pain at each kill, he gave a smile at their shocked faces because the memory of the Red Mountain appealed to him more than his inner angst tore at him. Finally, when all of the barbaric tribes were either dead or retreating, it all vanished into nothingness. A pitch black abyss was all he could see in any direction. Finally, he saw a faint white glow come from the distance. He started towards the light and as he did, he noticed that the light was coming at him faster than he was walking. All of a sudden it rushed up at him and engulfed him and when he opened his eyes, before him stood the Great Lord Dagoth Ur once again.
Go to Vivec and enter the Arena pit. Wait there for maybe a day until I send people to fight you. You must prove yourself in battle. You will have to fight three Dagoths and fifty Golden Saints, five at a time.
Flame: The dark elf emerged from his hiding spot among the trees and waded through the water of the Ascadian Isles. Following the Imperial closely, but careful to remain hidden, difficult for someone of his height, around 5' 10", he watched as the guard entered the walls of Ebonhart. Too long he had hid, biding his time. The world had all but forgotten him, but the guards had not. Almost fifteen years before, he had been accused of a brutal murder in Sadrith Mora. Since then, his only sightings had been by commoners, but in the midnight hours with the robes of an assassin, a clear glimpse was never seen. Since the night of his accusation, he had been known only as Shadow. With his crossbow he had been able to provide food for himself as well as protection.
Shadow examined his newly earned crossbow in the light of the moon. Gone were the scratches of wear and use from his previous tool of murder, the dark stains of blood long dried. This new device felt the same and yet alien, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It appeared a standard crossbow, but it was a great deal more deadly. Shadow followed the path, staying true to his namesake, though none were nearby to witness his passing. The torches of the Ascadian Isle farmhouses were quickly doused as the new servant of Dagoth Ur passed by. The gates of Vivec soon towered in the dark sky, the moonlight reflecting off the waters cast out by the cantons giving the town the look of a many-headed creature rising from the waves, water dripping from each orifice. Gripping the ledge in his bone-breaking grasp, Shadow edged around each canton, avoiding the Ordinators and night-strollers alike.
The Arena was located at the center of the city. As he neared it, gone were the well-meaning residents of this proud city, and apparent were the blood-thirsty bunch of ragged men who came here only to see the lives of others horribly ruined. As soon as Shadow stepped into the upper part of the Arena, he felt at easy. Gone was the need to hide his identity from the Ordinators. Here, lives were lost each day, the murderer set free, the people pleased. Shadow knew that if he were to die here, none would care. If he would win, none would bother to ask his name, under the assumption that next battle he would not be as lucky.
Shadow casually walked over to the nearest crate and removed a Steel Shortshort. Longer than his forearm, it would suffice to combat foes who breached the flurry of bolts he would unleash. He hopped over the low barrier onto the sandy floor of the pit. Running it through his hands, he felt a sense of power, as if this ground wanted him to succeed. He hefted the weight of the crossbow, a weight he had quickly grown accoumstomed to. Out of the corner of his eye he detected a slight movement, as if a portion of the wall had begun to shift. Without breaking his gaze at the sand laying at his feet, he adjusted his grip on the crossbow, turned and fired. With such force, the bolt was released, that it's impact in the wall caused it to bury itself to the last inch. But not before the blood of a Golden Saint spilled onto the sand, staining it a deeper red than natural. Shadow rolled to the left as a glass blade thrust from behind him pierced the air below where his shoulder had been. Removing the shortsword from it's sheath, he pierced the lower back of the Golden Saint which had hidden behind him, driving the point of the blade upward until it made contact with the being's heart. Shadow snatched up the glass blade, leaving his steel one to reside in the dying creature forever more.
The other three golden saints charged from the opposite doorway. Bolts flew from the crossbow, the first connecting with the temple of one, the next tearing a gaping hole through what was an eye socket, the bolt and eye flying through until contacting the wall. The last golden saint was hit with a glancing would, hitting the lower right section of its abdomine. Even that would, which would barely have dented armor, caused it to spin around, collapsing on the sand. With barely a heartbeat after this impact, another bolt was loosed, ending the struggling life of the 5th golden saint.
Taking up a position in a small alcove, Shadow cast bolts out as Sheograth casts out madness. Each bolt fired made the next more skillful, deadly. Before long, bodies littered the sand, now red as the morning sun. His stash of weapons and shields would provide Shadow enough wealth to live happily for the rest of his days, but happiness was not what he had come for. A figure, vaguely man-like, emerged from the northern gate. Another came from the south. A third leapt from the upper pier above Shadow, landing across the arena from him. These three crept forward together, intent on severing each limb from Shadow's body.
A single bolt was released from Shadow's crossbow. A sickening decrease in time let him watch it's perfect trajectory, mastered through the murder of Golden Saints. Just before impacting the center Dagoth, this disfigured man's hand struck like a serpent, snatching the bolt and changing it's course in a way to allow it's momentum to fling it harmlessly away. He charged. The other Dagoths charged. Too long had Shadow relied on the powers he did not fully understand. He charged. Holding the crossbow in one hand and a glass longsword in the other, Shadow's mind raced for a way to survive. The Dagoth on the right flank lifted a heavy Daedric Claymore, clearly too heavy for someone of his size. Watching it fall with the deceleration of time, Shadow's limbs traveled as if underwater. The crossbow rose, pressed against the heart of the Dagoth and fired. Stunned, the Dagoth's eyes shone with an fire as that of the underworld might, with fierce power and a dark reflection. The claymore continued to fall, slashing through the bone of Shadow's right shoulder. The arm, now useless, dropped the crossbow. With a few quick adjustments, the Crossbow was instead in his left hand, the sword lying discarded on the Arena pit. His mind still searching for a way out, he made a single desperate move. Launching a bolt into the sand ahead of the middle Dagoth, he hoped only to slow him. But this servant of evil wasn't expecting an indirect assault. Rolling forward, the bolt instead pierced his foot, pinning him to the ground. Shadow smiled; it was the first thing that had happened better than planned.
The third Dagoth was different than the others. Lacking was the single-minded thirst to kill Shadow. There was a spark of intelligence in his eyes, probably from life as a General or strategist before beholding the power of Dagoth Ur. Dropping the Crossbow and grabbing the sword, Shadow hurled it, spearlike, at the pinned Dagoth. The Dagoth lifted his arms in a last attempt at survival, but failed. The crossbow again rose into a targeting position. The final Dagoth held a bow, long and curved, as if made of bone. The arrow fired traveled with immense speed, but Shadow had plans to win. Dodging left little hope of survival, as collapse on the sand meant an easier shot for his attacker. He did something unexpected; turning so that his right side faced his opponent, the arrow struck his arm, now numb from it's previous injury. Moving as quickly as possible, he used his limp arm as a shield, occasionally firing a return bolt to stall his target. When within feet of the Dagoth, he dropped his crossbow for the third time, instead scooping the sand he had watched for so long into his palm. With the sparkling particles catching the light of torches, it was obvious the Dagoth had not planned for this either as the individual grains stuck to his eyes. The blinded foe pulled out a dagger at swung, succeeding in hitting only the broken arm. The dagger was snatched from a weakened grip and plunged into the lower jaw of this final foe. As the body sank to the floor, Shadow stumbled backwards, knelt down and stared blindly ahead. This world faded, and he was again in the dark torment-world of Dagoth Ur. He was the first gone, and the first back.
Since he was already considered a murderer, Shadow did the only reasonable thing; he joined the Morag Tong. Sneaking through the halls of Vivec to speak with Eno was the only time he came in contact with other living creatures without leaving them dead. These contract killings supplied gold with which to lure those who came too close to his home to their deaths at the hands of Cliff Racers. But, recently he had trouble sleeping, even when convinced none were nearby. His dreams showed him Red Mountain, but rather than the feeling of trepidation he expected, he felt power. One night, well before dawn, he set out. He didn't know where, or why, but he left.
Some of my Sixth House creatures have been captured by the Imperials. They are being held in Fort Buckmoth. Apparently the Imperials were snooping around my lair of Ilunibi. They captured a few of my corprus beasts so they could learn more about what they are and to gain information on the Sixth House. I don't care what becomes of the beasts but I believe the head of the Legion, Drathus Namhort has learned something about our group. If you want, you can free the corprus beasts but your main objective is to see what Drathus knows and if it is something important kill him. If he has told anyone else the information he has then kill them too.
Kenny: Incesticide walked out of the ghost fence dagger in hand and a smirck on his face. Buckmoth wasnt far but it was a whole fort not just a couple guards. The path to the fort was mostly empty except for a couple cliff racers and a rat. These opponents were easily dispatched and this lifted Incesticides spirit. But it quickly went back to a normal level...maybe even below normal as he approched the fort. He had planned his attack on the way to the fort, simple he would go over the mountains in the back of the fort that way he could dispatch the imperial marksman then slip into the fort.
Inces. scaleled the final part of the cliff and saw the marksman making thier rounds. "Fools", Inces. muttered. He quickly snuck up to the nearest guard and slit the mans throat. Blood spewed from the wound driping down to the ground. Lucky it being night no one saw Inces. but the guards had torches so the closer he got to a guard the more visible he'd be. The next marksman was coming Incesticides way. Think fast he took the body of the dead guard and threw it over the fort wall. On the other hand the guard did notice the blood, as the guard started to call down to his fellow men Inces. leaped into the air with dagger in hand. He landed on the man, dagger periceing the mans armor and going through his chest. He gurgled and fell over into a bloody heap. With the marksman dead Inces. jumped down and quietly entered the fort.
This how ever wasnt a good idea, all the candles in the fort were lit and Drathus Namhort the fort leader stood across the room. Drathus knew who Inces was and cryed for the guards. Three guards entered the room, immetiadly Inces drew his dagger and charged the first guard. The blow from Inces sent the man flying, he then hit a wall and fell to the floor unconsious. The other two ran up and swung thier swords at the same time, one missed the other hiting Inces. in the torso knocking him to the ground. He quickly jumped back up and kicked them both off thier feet. Inces. jolted his dagger into both mens skulls one at a time. After inspecting the area most people had fled but Drathus Namhort was hiding under a table sword in hand. "HA some leader", said Inces. He quicly grabbed Drathus by the neck and lifted him two feet in the air. The man gurgled blood driping from his mouth, "You got blood on my shirt sssss", hissed Inces. After saying that he quickly threw the man across the room, even after that the man was still alive Inces. noticing threw his dagger into the mans skull.
After retriving his dagger, Inces. went down stairs to the prison cells. Only two of his sixth house companians remained, an ash slave and ash ghoul. "Come we must hurry back to red mountain", said Inces. The two eagerly following him. Outside was a strange scene the guards all sorounding
the marksman he had killed before. Well...at least he thought it was the man, he was now a corpus beast was rising from the ground. After seeing that the imperial dogs ran in horror. I think I found my daggers enchantment Inces thought to himself........
I require the scroll known as 'The Private Papers of Galur Rithari, Buoyant Armiger'. There are only a few copies that still exist due to the Temple's hatred of all things dark and "evil" but once there were hundreds of copies. I'm interested in the vampire's great strength and regenerative abilities. This scroll may give clues on why vampires are like they are. Whoever gets me this scroll will be rewarded greatly. I know of only one copy which is in the Secret Library in Vivec. It will be well guarded.
MTallanvor: Perrin stepped off the siltstrider stand into a cool spring morning. Dew was still wet upon the ground. In the distance he could hear in one ear, the majectic sound of the wilderness to the north, and in the other, he could hear the constant hawking of Vvardenfell's largest town. He stepped over the bridge, connecting the mainland to the Foreign Quarter. He remebered his father telling him that the Foreign Quarter used to be the only place Outlanders were allowed. Thankfully, it was a new age.
Perrin nodded to a few locals on his way towards the gondolier stand, just west of the main bridge.
"Where can I take you today?" the gondolier asked in a cheery voice.
"How much is it to get to the Palace from here?" Perrin asked as he yawned.
"5 gold pieces."
"My that is a lovely hat, do you get those when you take on such a marvelous job such as gondoliering?"
"Why, yes, it is a fine job. You know, I'll take you to the Palace on the house today. And yes, you do get the hat with the job." The gondolier chuckled. Just what Perrin wanted him to say.
Perrin sat amid the rhythmic side-to-side motion of the small boat he was in, trailing his hand among the lazy ripples from the wind. He looked up at the large mass of floating city to his left. He had been to Vivec occasionally, but not for what he was there for today.
"Thank you." Perrin said, as he shook the gondolier's hand. Stepping off the platform, he saw two odd statues on either side of what looked like a long tunnel up a flight of stairs. He remembered what his master said about the "Secrect Library". Under a rug in the Canon Offices of the Justice Hall. He opened the door labeled "Hall of Justice" to a long corridor. To the left and right of him, several sets of stairs wound up to their respective offices. He continued looking until the found the right door labled "Canon Offices" and walked in.
There was a lone ordinator standing guard in the small room, he could see an indention in the rug where the trapdoor to the secret library was.
"You're not supposed to be in here!" The ordinator exclaimed.
"Wait, wait, this isn't the Library of Vivec?" Perrin asked, pulling out a map of the twin halls, bringing the guard in close to him. With the guards back to the trapdoor, Perrin casted a spell to unlock the door without the guard noticing. He didn't.
Perrin purposefully created the map to be confusing, so the guard took it in both hands trying to figure it out. While doing so, Perrin pulled out his fire-wrought sword out of its sheath.
"What's that light? Arghh!" The guards mumble was not translatable as the blade sliced through the middle of his forehead.
"I think I found it, thanks." Perrin said to the still quivering corpse.
As Perrin decended into the library, he could hear the audible gasps of the people in it. They could see the flames licking up his sword.
Perrin hopped down the last couple of steps, and turned around, slicing the arm holding the ebony mace that was heading for Perrin's back off of the ordinators socket.
"Unless you feel like living without certain body parts, I suggest moving up against this wall. You." Perrin said, pointing at the lone scholar in the midst of 5 guards. "Do you know where the 'Private Papers of Galur Rithari, Buoyant Armiger' might possibly be?"
Perrin gave a gut wrenching smirk towards the guards standing helplessly against the wall as the scholar sorted through papers.
"H-h-h-ere y-you are s-s-ir." the scholar stammered.
"Thank you, no, Kaye thanks you, he certainly will enjoy this.
Well, I certainly don't want to break up this lovely party, but, I really must dash. Ta-ta." Perrin said, simutainiously casting a Divine Intervention spell. Hurtling him to the Dock at Ebonheart.
"Ha, I bet they'll be fussin' over that old Imperial Cult leader for some time now." Perrin mused over his treachery.
Stepping onto the boat, Perrin told the captain to take him just to his next stop. He continued doing so for a few days, until news of the theft had died down. Though as he took a deep sigh of relief and sat down at Ebonheart that day, he could have sworn he heard in his head a spoken deep, ominous, "Well done."
I want an item that is called the Death Stone. It is a mysterious rock with great necromantic powers. After I am done studying it I will make it into a weapon of great power or create an undead servant for whoever gets this item for me. It is located in the Duab Ancestrial Tomb which is located south of Ald-ruhn. Be careful because the tomb is full of traps and undead creatures.
Flame: Shadow had grown tired of the cities, where any no-name peasant could discover his identity. He had jumped at the idea of raiding a tomb, one of the few ways he had survived after his false conviction. A journey on foot, harassed by Cliff Racers of course, quickly led Shadow to Ald'Ruhn. An ash storm, helpfully provided by Red Mountain, made it difficult for anyone to see more than a few feet ahead of them, letting Shadow avoid notice of the skirt-wearing Redoran guards. In minutes, he had cleared the city and began traveling south along a worn path.
Finding the Duab Tomb proved little difficulty, just off the path he had been following. Checking his crossbow to insure it still functioned, and assuring himself that the silver dagger was still in its sheath, he stepped across the threshold into the tomb. A long staircase led down to a closed door, probably locked. Shadow snatched his knife and pried the torch off it's mounting in the wall. Kneeling to examine the door, he pulled out a lockpick to open it, a simple lock that any amatuer theif could open. As the lockpick neared the locking mechanism, a trap sprung and bittergreen acid poured from a miniscule opening in the ceiling. Diving back, Shadow managed to escape the burn of the liquid with the exception of a small portion of his left ankle. Wincing, he stood up and managed to unlock the door without further incident. Tossing his plundered torch inside the room ahead of him, it landed with a clutter in a pile of broken bones. As Shadow crept closer, it was apparent that it was a reanimated skeleton that was recently put down; the sword still held in it's grasp bore little signs of dust.
Searching the room, Shadow found nothing but the remains of the dead and a door, leading further into the tomb. Suprisingly, this door stood with no lock, not even closed. Paranoid because of his previous encounter, Shadow stood behind the door as he opened it. The corpse of a man, little over thirty, tumbled forward, crashing against the dusty floor. Sticking from the man's back was a sharpened bone, and the look on the man's face was one of suprise rather than horror. Shadow did not believe for a second he was killed by the undead.
Shadow stepped through the opened door, over the corpse still smelling faintly of blood, when his ankle, burned from the acid, decided to weaken. Falling to the ground uncerimoniously, Shadow suddenly heard a faint whistle. Looking over his head, he spotted the still quivering arrow that had fired at what would have been his neck, had he not fallen. Scraping sounds came from the hallway ahead as it turned sharply to the right. Holding his crossbow in his left hand and the silver dagger in the right, he pressed his back against the wall and moved slowly towards the corner. Rolling his head along the wall to peer around the corner, he was confronted with the point of a sword. Someone had been expecting him. Rolling backwards, normally ending in a crouch, Shadow collided with the wall behind him. Lifting the crossbow, he fired at the enemy, suprisingly a man rather than a skeleton, and pushed against the wall with his right foot. As soon as his weight was transferred to his left leg, the ankle once again weakened. Spilled onto the floor like rubbish from a tipped crate, he peered at the face of his attacker. The sword was stabbing at him. Shifting to the left, the blade barely missed him, and he caught the hand of his attacker still on the hilt. Pulling down with his left hand and lunging forward with his right, holding the silver dagger, he plunged the short blade deep within the skull of the man.
Grabbing the crossbow he had dropped in the fight, he began to move again. Another locked door, but with a little work he had opened it. Kicking the door in, he took one step to be assailed by a fireball larger than his head. He closed the door, but before he had it shut the fireball impacted, residual fire burning the left side of his face. Upon opening the door again, he was suprised to see the end of this tomb. At the top of a short set of stairs, only 6, sat a man facing the other direction. Hefting the crossbow, Shadow fired a bolt at the back of the man's skull. It impacted, the barbed point driving through the skull to emerge through the bridge of the man's nose. He stood up, turned around and glared at shadow with eyes solid black. A thin trickle of blood had worked its way down his face, now dripping onto the floor. The man payed no attention to the bolt that had pierced his flesh, instead calling something unintelligible.
Without warning, a man jumped off a pillar situated to the right of Shadow. With the glowing eyes of a vampire, it landed with a grace that belied it's great age. Thinking quickly, Shadow hurled the silver knife at the heart of the vampire, but it deflected it as if swatting a fly. The vampire stopped in it's tracks, pointing at Shadow's injured ankle. Closer examination showed that the damage had spread, but the point of impact had become black, in the early stages of decay. A fearful look was in the vampire's eyes, and Shadow had a quick wit. He pointed at the vampire's hand, and the horrid creature's eyes grew wide. As it's head moved to check it's hand for the signs of decay, Shadow let loose a flurry of bolts into the top of the vampire's skull. It dropped dead with a moist splat, four bolts sticking into it's cranium, one through it's forehead.
The man at the top of the steps gave a start. Never had it expected it's vampire to be killed so easily. Shadow began to fire bolts, when suddenly the crossbow in his hands grew hot. Before long, he was forced to throw it or have his clothing catch fire. Left with little option and refusing to fail Dagoth Ur, he charged forward, weaponless. Grappling with the man, he became aware of his enemy's imense strength. Nearly defeated, Shadow noticed a glint of light. A stone about the size of his fist, carved with runes, glowed faintly inside the man's pocket. With a savage kick, he forced his assailant away and tore the pocket loose, snatching the stone before it fell. With a horrific expression, the man noticed the bolt still in his skull, and fell over dead.
Within seconds of falling, the man's corpse had rotted at an extreme rate, leaving nothing but a light marking on the floor. This must be the Death Stone, to forestall death so long for one man. Shadow set off for Red Mountain, his ankle already feeling better.
if i left out any rps...just pm me...this took me a while and i probably did leave out a few