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Post by DarkNova50 on Mar 9, 2009 20:24:24 GMT
Chapter 16: Trial by Wind...Eye[/u] (A good time for all)
"Who in the name of Akatosh is Vanion?" Fyr asked, crossing his arms as he turned to Olothan. "Sounds like some crazy kind of foreign delicacy."
Olothan simply sighed in response, before looking up, between the others in the room. "Back before the Oblivion Crisis broke out, he was an infamous warrior, who roamed Tamriel..." the elderly mage began. "He was...accredited, with the deaths of hundreds...he burned entire villages to the ground, for no apparent reason at all." The Altmer clenched his eyes shut, and his balled fists shook with anger. "He murdered in cold blood...nobles, civilians...all for his own amusement, without justification."
Rollie looked back and forth awkwardly, pursing his massive lips. "Well...that's uh..." he began, unsure of how to respond. The Guar looked over at Ilithan, pleading. "Uh, ya wanna say something?"
Ilithan nodded intently. "Yeah, I'll say something..." he replied, crossing his arms. "This guy sounds like every cliché bad guy in the book! Wouldn't the Legion, or somebody else, have done something about him?" the young Altmer inquired.
Olothan shook his head miserably. "You don't understand...they did try, my boy. Legion squads, Fighter's Guild mercenaries...even the Morag Tong and Dark Brotherhood tried to eliminate him," he explained. "But Vanion expertly used both magic and melee combat, and ultimately proved more than any of them could handle."
Rebecca, who had joined the discussion with her mother, looked at her father woriedly. "So...then what happened to him?" she asked, gripping the back of a couch for support.
"When Dagon began his invasion, reports of Vanion's activities throughout Tamriel ceased," Olothan replied simply. "When he failed to resurface afterwards, I hoped that he had been killed, during that horrible incident. Fortunately, his name was forgotten in time, and most people today have never heard of him." He bitterly rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But now, it would appear as though he is the one responsible for the events at Solstheim, and that he is indeed still alive..."
"And now, Nathan, Alderin, Bruno and Netta are on their way there..." Taven grumbled sourly, looking between the others. "And they don't even know what the hell they're getting themselves into."
Sakura looked over at the Khajiit, a tempered rage burning in her eyes. "Thus, we're back to our original problem..." she surmised.
Rebecca looked over at the door of the house, as the others talked amongst themselves, her face full of worry. "Alderin..." she whispered softly. "Please be safe..."
__________
"GAWDAMMIT!!!" Alderin screeched, sprinting quickly across the massive main chamber of the ruin, Wallace in close pursuit. His assailant simply swung its longswrod madly, trying to connect with the Elf. "Somebody wanna give me a [censored] hand over here!?!?"
"Busy!" Netta hollered back, dodging one of Korst's feral lunges. She and Nathan danced desperately around the Nord beast, jabbing and slicing, trying to hurt it somehow, but seemingly to no avail. "Getting our asses whomped! Call back later!"
"How the hell did you get so strong, Riley!?" Bruno demanded, his hammer and that of the beast's clashing repeatedly. "Talos knows you weren't this strong when we fought those skooma pirates!"
"Ignorant fool!" Riley shot back, angry. "You still refuse to see! Every day, I grow stronger...come closer to perfection...while you stagnate, growing weak and old..." The creature smiled horrifically, as the two of them slammed their weapons together. "You are as nothing, compared to me!"
Bruno cocked a curious eyebrow, tilting his head to the side like a confused dog. "Ha...bleh?" he asked, bewildered.
"Perfection? Come on!" Nathan bellered at Riley, before turning his attention back to Korst. "Who do you guys think yer kidding!? I mean, it's gotta hurt to be that ugly."
"Arrogant whelp!" Korst shot back, gripping its longsword even tighter. "I'll teach you some humility..." The damned monster lunged forward, slicing at Nathan's midsection with incredible speed and strength.
Nathan barely managed to sidestep the attack, his eyes bulging wide in surprise as he did so. "Son of a Daedra!" he cried out, his back arched to avoid the attack.
Alderin continued to barely avoid Wallace's attacks, the beast's slashes gradually making their way nearer, about to hit him. As he prepared to curse the others with his final breath, his foot slammed into a large, dislodged stone tile. With all the grace of a Kaghouti in the throws of death, Alderin lurched forward and managed to plant his face into the hard, cold floor, Wallace tripping on the downed Altmer. The thing flew forward into a wall, stunned, as Alderin made his way over to Bruno, who was currently paused in his fight with Riley.
As the Nord and Altmer pressed their backs to each other, Riley and Wallace circling them, preparing to move in for the kill, Alderin looked back at Bruno. "Bruno...we're probably going to die..." Alderin began, somber.
"It looks that way..." Bruno grumbled miserably, using his free hand to grab a bottle of mead. "What's yer point?" he asked, popping the top open.
"I just want you to know..." the Altmer began, gripping his staff tightly. "That I always hated you, from the moment I saw you at the Tiber Septim," he explained rather methodically. "You're an uncivilized, drunken barbarian, and I personally blame you for all the group's misfortunes..."
Bruno simply nodded, seemingly unoffended. "Well, if we're gonna die, I guess there's no harm in telling you..." Riley and Wallace prepared for their final, deadly assault. "Your sister is super hot. I could really get with a girl like dat."
"WHAT!?!?[/b]" Alderin screamed, oblivious to the attackers now making their move.
"Look out!" Bruno hollered, lunging to the side. Alderin snapped his eyes back to Wallace, and realized that the two of them were now bearing down on him.
"Holy crap!" Alderin cried out pathetically as he dodged to the side opposite Bruno. With their targets gone, Riley and Wallace smashed headfirst into each other, their eyes clenched shut and their teeth beared as they collided.
Without giving any thought to the other one, Bruno and Alderin both positioned themselves behind their respective attackers. Alderin readied his staff, Bruno brought up his hammer, and simultaneously, a pulse of magic and cold hard steel slammed into the two things, liquifying organs and pulverizing bone from the sheer force used.
Together, Wallace and Riley fell to the ground, dead. Thick, black liquid oozed from their mouths, and the frames of their bodies were mishapen, and crumpled. Bruno and Alderin looked at them, and then at each other.
"What...just happened here?" Bruno asked, not quite sure what to make of it.
"I think...I mean, I think we just saved each other's lives..." Alderin replied, looking at the massive Nord. The two of them shuddered in horrified disgust.
"I won't tell anyone if you don't..." Bruno offered, his eyebrow cocked in curiousity.
"Now that's the best idea you've had on this journey..." Alderin shot back, his eyes lit up. "Now, let's go check on Netta and Nathan, shall we?"
Nathan clutched at Korst's arms desperately, pinned against the wall as he was. The thing pressed hard against Nathan's neck, strangling him, and keeping the Imperial's feet a good half-metre from the ground. "Netta! Do something!" Nathan gurgled angrily.
Netta prepared herself behind the accursed creature, her daggers at the ready. As she prepared to lunge, she gave a slight grin. "You know, this reminds me of the time that me and my boyfriend..." she began.
"NETTA!" Nathan gurgled, his feet slamming against the wall frantically.
"Oh, right...sorry!" the Dunmer replied, before lunging at Korst. Her daggers dug deep into its thick, muscular shoulders, and black blood wept from the wounds. It screamed horribly in pain, letting go of Nathan. The Imperial slumped to the floor as the thing turned around, angrily grabbing Netta by the neck.
Korst's eyes bulged in anger as its grasp tightened on Netta's neck. The young Dunmer gasped for breath, as she clawed at the creature's arms in vain. "Be glad you will not live to see the Master take this land, and everything in it!" the thing called out, bringing its other hand to Netta's neck.
As the thing gleefully strangled Netta, the tip of a silver longsword suddenly burst through the front of its chest. Korst looked down and clutched at it, even as it slowly rotated in its chest. "Master this, master that..." Nathan grumbled from behind. "Don't you guys ever turn off?"
The longsword dislodged, and plunged repeatedly into the stunned Korst's torso. With a scream of pain, the thing fell to the ground, dying, as Alderin and Bruno reached the others. Netta got up, brushing herself off, as the four of them gathered around the dying creature, looking down at it.
Korst laughed slightly, blood spurting out from its mouth as it did so. "I seem to have...underestimated you four..." it chuckled. "But don't think that you've won anything..." Korst propped itself up, slightly, bringing its face as close to Nathan's as it could. "Soon, the Master will emerge from Solstheim...he will consume the whole of Tamriel, and your world will be no more..."
Nathan brought his longsword up, above Korst's neck, while rolling his eyes. "Yeah...that's what everybody says...but look who's still laughing..." he taunted, irritated, before bringing down his blade, removing Korst's head. "Dammit, I get sicka hearing that shit all the time..."
"Tell me about it..." Netta grumbled, rubbing her neck. "The way they talk about 'the master', you'd think he's king shit of the universe..."
Bruno reached down, picking up Korst's head, "The master is swell! The master is great! We all like to kiss the master's ass!" he said in a high pitched voice, manipulating the dead thing's mouth like a puppet.
Alderin slapped his hand against his face. "Yeah, that's just disgusting...you idiot..." he groaned bitterly. With a shrug, Bruno dropped Korst's head, and it hit the floor with a wet thump. He returned to nursing his bottle of mead.
Netta looked over at Nathan, and suddenly blushed slightly, before looking down at her feet. "Uh, Nathan?" she began timidly. "Um...thanks...for saving me...at the end, there, I mean..."
Nathan gave Netta a bewildered look before blushing himself, looking around nervously. "Uh...no problem..." he replied, unsure, rubbing the back of his head. "And...thanks for saving me...and, uh, all that junk..."
Alderin rolled his eyes hopelessly. "By the Nine, let's get outta here!" he barked angrily, his fists clenched. "The last thing in the world I wanna see is that!"
"Shut up, Alderin..." Nathan grumbled, as the quartet headed towards the stairs leading out of the ruins.
"I mean honestly, an Imperial and a Dunmer!?" the Altmer continued on furiously. "It's bloody unnatural!"
"Shut up, Alderin..." Netta hissed, her words full of acid.
Alderin pointed an accusing finger in the general direction of the two. "I mean, if I was into that sorta kinky crap, I'd go to the House of Earthly-"
Alderin was cut off by the sound of glass, as Bruno smashed his mead bottle into the back of the Altmer's head. "Shut yer hole!" the Nord barked, as the Elf stumbled forward. Recovering quickly, though, the quartet made its way to the door leading outside, and resurfaced into the world.
"Wait a minute..." Netta piped up. "Did we ever figure out where we are?"
____________
"So then what's the plan?" Fyr asked Olothan, crossing his arms. "I mean, I assume you have one?"
"I always have a plan..." Olothan replied with confidence, standing up. "I'm sure I still have that teleporter pad we built laying around here somewhere...we can use that to transport Sakura, Taven, you and myself directly to Solstheim, hopefully to stop Vanion before Alderin or the others ever get there."
Taven furrowed his furry brow. "Uh...why didn't you use that to get them there in the first place?" he asked, curious.
"Well, it takes alot of energy to use, for starters..." Olothan explained. "Not to mention, it didn't seem a priority at the time. But now, it may be our only hope to help those four." He looked to the others; his family, and Rollie. "I want all of you to stay here. It'll be dangerous there, and we don't have enough energy to take more than four people."
"You won't hear me complaining!" Rollie barked in response. "I ain't real fonda riskin' my life!"
Rebecca gave her father a sincere look. "Please make sure that he comes back safe, dad..." she said, with genuine concern. "That all of them do..."
"Don't worry, I will," Olothan replied, determined. He looked between Fyr, Taven and Sakura. "Get ready...we're going to Solstheim."
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The sky was a solid, matte black...completely artificial, without even the twinkle of the stars to illuminate it. And yet, a soft blue light illuminated the whole of Solstheim, revealing jagged cliffs of sheer ice, and gaping chasms of solid rock. Twisted, mutated werewolves and altered humanoids roamed the island, killing anything that made its way inside...although that happened more and more rarely, as of late.
Massive, jet black towers jutted from what had once been settlements...the Skaal village, Raven Rock, Thirsk. They served as watch towers, of sorts, packed to the brim with the foul beasts of the island, and stinking of death.
But one tower, at Mortrag Glacier, dwarfed them all. It was larger even than the White Gold Tower of the Imperial City, though it was solid black, and sported jagged, yet symmetric, protrusions. But there were no beasts inside this tower...only items. Enchanted items, of extraordinary power...the Relics of Tamriel.
A single figure stood atop the tower, looking out over the edge at the lands below. Tall, slim, and covered from head to toe in Daedric armour, save the Masque of Clavicus Vile...another treasure of its past exploits. Its long, black cape flowed silently in the wind, as if made of liquid. It stood there, silent...waiting.
A massive mechanical lift in the center of the tower emerged behind the figure, carrying another creature, similar to Korst and the others. However, this creature showed no hostility, and had no smile, as it stay bowed, perfectly still. It dared not move, do so much as breathe, unless the figure before it said so...
With a deep, commanding voice, that was still distinctly human, the figure spoke to the underling. "You may rise."
"Thank you, Master..." the beast growled happily, making its way cautiously to the edge. "I have news of Korst Wind-Eye, and the others."
"And? How did they fare against the meddlers?" the figure asked, bemused. "I assume that they did not encounter too much difficulty."
The beast gulped nervously, frightened. "They are dead, Master...all of them," it explained. "The four you sent them to test...they killed them."
The figure froze, suddenly. It did not move...did not breathe, did not make a noise. It remained that way for some time, before sighing deeply. "A pity...Korst served me well these last fifty years..." the figure replied, although its tone was really one of indifference.
"He died serving you, Master..." the beast reassured. "But...what of the interlopers?"
"If they were able to defeat Korst, then they are stronger than I anticipated," the figure said, looking up to the black sky. "Perhaps they are even those four...I wonder..." it mused.
The beast bowed deeply. "With the Master's permission, I will inform the others... and tell them to slay these four on sight." it offered gladly.
"No," the figure commanded sternly. "Tell them to leave the four...adventurers...alone...not to harm them, not to interfere in any way..." The figure looked down at the beast. "And tell them...I will deal with anyone who does otherwise...personally..."
The beast ducked its head, doing its best to hide its fear...its sheer terror at the master's threat. "O-of cousre, M-master..." it replied. "It will be done!" The beast raced for the lift, and the contraption began its long descent, although not near fast enough, as far as the frightened underling was concerned.
The figure looked back out over the island, and chuckled slightly, its arms as ever crossed on its chest. "You four have come far...Nathan, Netta, Alderin and Bruno..." the thing uttered, entertained. "Overcome many hardships...defeated many opponents, and even been to Oblivion and back..."
"But I wonder...how will you fare...
against the might of Vanion?"
Egotistical bastard...
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Post by DarkNova50 on Mar 9, 2009 20:24:46 GMT
Chapter 17: En Route to Disaster[/u] (Eyes on the prize...)
The distinct sound of boots clapping against hard stone echoed throughout the tower, through the dark, empty passages, through the barely illuminated rooms filled with priceless treasures, to Vanion's ears. The Imperial cocked his head and looked at the vacant lift, surprised. Either someone or something had made it past his minions...or some of his minions themselves were feeling rather gutsy. Either way, he marched towards the lift, and made his way to the noise.
It didn't take him long at all to get to one of the central chambers, where he stood on a small, concealed balcony. The room was shaped like a massive cylinder, with the wall and floor made of a seemless black stone. A subtle illumination was provided by a chandelier suspended from the ceiling. From his vantage point, he watched an elderly Altmer and Dunmer, along with a Khajiit and a Breton girl, slowly make their way through the otherwise empty room.
"Damn, those things were easier than I expected..." Taven explained to the others, looking around the room cautiously. He remained unaware of the figure that watched them from above. "If that's the best that Vanion has to offer, then he should go down easy!"
Vanion gave a slight, silent chuckle. "Idiots."
"I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed by the lack of challenge they presented..." Fyr grumbled, although their was a hint of bemusement in his voice. "I came here looking for a fight, not to kill a buncha simple beasts."
Vanion shook his head in disbelief. The insolence...the arrogance...he prepared to jump down and simply slaughter the bunch, as Olothan began to speak.
"Just remember why we're here...to kill off Vanion, before Nathan and the others get here," the Altmer explained to the others. "I have no intention of letting them die on this damn island, understand?"
"You said it..." Sakura replied, nodding her head. "Plus, I'm not sure how they'd handle those things, and frankly, I don't want to find out."
"You know those four?" Vanion asked, jumping from the balcony down to the floor. Sakura and the others spun around, quickly readying their weapons, but Vanion made no such response. "How fortunate I am to have you here, then..."
Sakura gave the new figure a look of disgust. "So, you must be Vanion," she growled, her katana at the ready. "Lousy coward...hiding behind those damned things down there..."
"As much as I would like to give every guest on Solstheim the individual attention they deserve, I can't be bothered with every wayward soul, now can I?" Vanion asked rather coyly. "I would have simply killed you, but you seem to know Nathan and his friends...I think I may be able to use you..." he mused.
"I hate to disappoint you, but you won't get the chance, you bastard!" Sakura hollered as she lunged at him. However, in one fluid motion, Vanion reached out and grabbed Sakura by the face, and quickly used his other hand to grab her weapon arm. There was a horrific snap that echoed throughout the room as Sakura's arm bent back ninety degrees, in the wrong direction. The young Breton's katana hit the ground with a resounding clang as she screamed out in pain.
"I wouldn't be much of a host if I up and died before the guests of honor got here, would I?" Vanion calmly asked Sakura as she cringed in pain, struggling to escape his grasp. He threw her effortlessly across the room, where she landed in a heap at the base of the wall.
"Sakura!" Taven cried out, watching the woman crash into the wall. But the Breton didn't respond, merely lay motionless. Taven turned, and faced Vanion with hatred in his eyes. "You bastard! I'll kill you!" the cat hollered, lunging at the figure, spear before him.
"Now now, no need to get upset," Vanion reassured, grabbing the end of the weapon. With a quick flick of the wrist, the spear's end pointed upwards, perpindicular to the shaft. "She's not dead, I assure you. The four of you will serve me much better alive..." With that, the Imperial juggernaut straight-legged the unfortunate Khajiit in the centre of the chest, who slammed into the opposite wall, coughing out blood.
Before Olothan and Fyr could use their staves, they weapons flew into the air, suspended near the ceiling. "Honestly, you two..." Vanion grumbled, shaking his head. "Your magic, formidable as it is, is of no use to you here. I do hope you realize this."
"Well we're not about to just give up, you egotistical maniac..." Fyr growled, as lightning arced through his fingers. Olothan's hands burst into flame as he glared at the Imperial. "You understand?"
"Completely..." Vanion replied simply. "I only hope that once I wrap up your little light show, one of you is still conscious, so we can talk..."
_________________
"So where the hell do we find this useless fetcher, anyway?" Alderin demanded, following Nathan and the others through the streets of Ald' Ruhn. Sunlight poured down generously on them, brightly illuminating the ground. A few commoners and guards passed them as they walked.
"Well, Olothan's note says something about looking for him at the 'Rat in the Pot'. Let's try there," Nathan replied simply, heading for a nearby building sporting that name on a sign. It looked fairly drab on the outside; like a small shack with a simple wooden door leading inside. But they had learned appearances could be deceptive in the past.
"While we're on the topic of Olothan, mind if I ask if you know anybody else influential?" Netta asked the Altmer, her eyebrow cocked in suspicion. "Duke Dren? Vivec, perhaps?"
"Dren only shows up on holidays..." Alderin countered calmly, looking straight ahead. "And as for Vivec...well, let's just say he hasn't been right in the head since the Daedra brought him back..."
"I heard that Meridia and Azura had their way with him, on the high seas of Oblivion..." Bruno added, his voice eerie and his eyes wide. "Now that'll melt yer face..."
"While inspiring as always, let's can this crap," Nathan ordered, heading for the door. "Let's just act cool until we get the airship, okay?" He opened the door wide, and the foursome stepped inside.
Thick, grey smoke filled the entire building...which was quite extensive. Beyond the small initial landing, a small staircase led into a massive bottom section, which was poorly illuminated. A series of moans, groans and loans(?) could be heard emanating from down there. Nathan shuddered.
Alderin blinked furiously as his eyes quickly turned bloodshot, and he coughed on the dense smoke. "The air...IT BURNS!!!" he screamed, clutching at his eyes.
"What the hell is going on!?" Netta demanded, looking around frantically. A well dressed, formal looking Bosmer approached them from downstairs, seemingly unaffected by the atmosphere. He ignored the group's coughing and hacking.
"Welcome to the Rat in the Pot, now Ald' Ruhn's most luxurious skooma den and orgy house..." the Elf greeted, his voice formal and respectful. He looked to Netta, and bowed politely. "Shall I pre-warm the lady's skooma pipe?"
"Shut yer face one damn minute!" Bruno barked angrily, as the others wheezed endlessly behind him. "I thought that kinda crap was illegal...even in a province as depraved as Morrowind!"
"It was legalized to encourage greater tax revenue, of course..." the Bosmer explained. "Morally bankrupt as this may sound, there's a fair amount of money to be made with skooma, and to quote a former patron here...'the Imperial fatcats would sell their granny for a Septim'."
"While putting down the government is good clean fun..." Nathan grumbled, glaring at the Wood Elf. "We're looking for somebody, and we're kind of in a hurry...you know a Louis Beauchamp?"
"Ah yes, Master Beauchamp...he has some, odd, tastes..." The Bosmer explained, somewhat hesitant. "If you'll be so kind as to follow me," he instructed, leading the group down the stairs. Reluctantly, they followed him into what was effectively the pit of horror.
As they made their way down a solitary path devoid of...obstructions, Nathan could make out the figures of individuals through the smoke, from various races, engaged in various...acts. Howling, moaning and yipping could be heard from all directions around them, but the density of the smoke luckily stopped him from seeing anything distinctive. "Dammit, I hate this place..." Nathan groaned, disturbed.
"I dunno guys..." Alderin said happily, his eyes no longer darting. The Altmer sported a sloppy, blissful smile. "I think I could get used to this, ya know?"
"Holy crap..." Netta muttered, horrified. She placed her hand in front of her mouth. "Alderin's...getting high! We don't have much time!"
The group finally found themselves at the door to a small room, rather plain looking really. The Bosmer headed back to the main entrance, and Nathan made his own way inside the room. There, sitting upright on a rather drab looking bed, sat an thin old man, with a long white beard. He looked happily at Nathan and the others as they entered. "Well hello, there..." he greeted, his voice happy, yet raspy. "Have the four of you come to-"
"If it's anything like out there, then hell no," Nathan rebuttled, not daring to give Netta a chance to reply. "I assume you're Louis Beauchamp? Olothan sent us...he said that you had an airship we could bum off you."
"Oh, so you're interested in testing my ship, then?" Louis asked, excited. The old man stood up from the bed, and headed for a nearby bookshelf, moving a few select books. "It's always nice to see courageous young people these days...most people aren't interested in my ships anymore, what with the history of gruesome deaths..."
Alderin's eyes snapped open as he returned to reality. "Wait, gruesome deaths?" he asked, concerned. "Uh, maybe this isn't such a good idea..."
"Nonsense! I'm sure..." Louis stopped a moment, stroking his chin. "Well, pretty sure, I've worked out all the kinks." The old man kicked the bookshelf angrily, eyeing it up and down. "Damn piece-a crap!"
"Wait a cotton-pickin minute!" Bruno hollered angrily, jabbing a solitary finger in the man's chest. "Just what in the name of Ysmir do you mean by 'kinks', anyway?"
"In all honesty, it's very uninteresting..." Louis began vaguely in defense. "Very 'cat's in the cradle', if you catch my meaning...but if you must know, there were some incidents of spontaneous combustion, Dwemer ghosts..." The old man sighed. "Some of the earlier models had a tendency to explode. But like I said, I worked out all the design flaws!" The bookcase began to move to the side with a grinding noise, revealing a larger room beyond. "Finally!" Louis exclaimed, walking through.
Nathan and the others followed Louis into a massive chamber. The room was roughly cube shaped, with the ceiling towering several stories above them. In the centre of the room, surrounded by various individuals wearing white jackets, was an enourmous machine, obviously of Dwemer origin, with various, complex looking contraptions protruding from the sides. "By...Uriel's ghost!" Netta cried out, amazed.
"People!" Louis called out to the individuals in the jackets, clapping his hands. "These four are interested in testing the new airship! Olothan sent them himself, so tell them everything they need to know!"
A pair of the individuals walked towards Nathan and the others. One of them, a young Imperial female with brown hair, approached Nathan. "Well, alright then..." she began, taking out a small piece of parchment. "The hull integrity isn't exactly up to snuff, and the engines have a tendency to...well, fail, sometimes..." the woman explained. "Also, make sure you never-" The male Redguard behind the woman tapped her on the shoulder, and shook his head back and forth in disapproval. "Um, never mind. You should be fine..." the Imperial continued, uncertain.
"This thing isn't about to explode on us, is it?" Nathan asked, as Netta and the others shuffled on board via a large boarding ramp. "I mean, taking risks is one thing, but I'm not really in the mood to board a flying death trap."
"It'll be fine..." Louis reassured, urging Nathan on board. "Just don't do anything stupid, like die. And be sure to let me know how it works out, alright?" The old man turned to one of the aids. "Open the launch doors!"
The massive stone ceiling parted right down the middle, letting in the bright sunlight. There was a deep rumble as the ship's engines started, and Bruno headed for the flight controls.
"Ah yes, a fine vessel!" the Nord cried out, seemingly familiar with the controls. "Basically the same as any sea faring ship...I say we call her the 'Stalwart Seagul'!"
"I say we don't let Bruno name the ship," Alderin voted as the ship began to head steadily upwards. The underbelly slammed into the edge of the launch doors, and the entire vessel shook violently. "Oi, what have I gotten myself into..." the Altmer whined.
"Well fellas, we're finally on our way!" Nathan cried out to the others. "And it's about damn time, too...seems like an eternity since we left the Tiber Septim..."
"Set a course for adventure!" Netta exclaimed as the ship headed up, and away from Ald' Ruhn, towards Solstheim...where the foursome would face their final challenge...
____________
Fyr lay unconscious next to Sakura and Taven, his clothing tattered and wounds covering his body. Meanwhile, Olothan violently coughed out blood, keeled over on his knees in the centre of the room. Vanion slowly approached the Altmer, before grabbing the mage by the throat and lifting him into the air.
"It seems you are the lucky winner, old man..." the Imperial chuckled. He cocked his head to the side as his grip on the Elf's throat tightened. "That you four were willing to risk your lives for them...you must care a great deal..."
"Enough!" Olothan barked angrily, glaring at Vanion with sheer hatred. "If you're going to kill me, then do it, you bastard! But don't waste my time with your incessant banter!" The Elf coughed out more blood.
"Kill you? Oh my..." the Imperial chuckled, holding Olothan up higher. "How little you understand...as I said, the four of you will prove much more...entertaining, alive, then dead." Vanion looked out over Olothan's shoulder, staring blankly into space, as the Altmer struggled against the Imperial's strength. "And it would seem that the guests of honour are on their way now...we shoud prepare, don't you think?"
Last leg...
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Post by DarkNova50 on Mar 9, 2009 20:25:11 GMT
Chapter 18: The End Draws Near[/u] (Yay, frozen tundra...)
As evening drew close, and the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, a few crimson beams of light found their way into the sky. Most lit up the clouds, turning them shades of crimson and gold that were reflected off the sea of ghosts below, creating a tranquil, serene sight. But one beam...found its way to a flying, roiling fireball, howling horribly through the air.
"That bastard knew this was gonna happen!" Alderin hollered miserably, latching onto the ship's railing. Flame belched angrily from gaping holes in the sides of the hull as the ship began to come apart, and the horrible sound of failing machinery was almost deafening. "He wanted us to die!!!" the Altmer screamed as he violently shook his head.
"Alderin, I know it looks bad, but things could be worse!" Netta shouted hopefully, grabbing onto a structural beam on the deck. "I mean, the ship could always-" the young Dunmer was cut off as an explosion plumed from the aft section of the ship, sending debris tumbling to the water down below. "You know what!? I think I'll just shut up now!" she cried out, afraid to say more.
Nathan struggled his way to the bow of the ship, dodging massive chunks of metal that flew at him from the dissintegrating ship. He watched as Bruno furiously made course corrections, trying to keep them from crashing into the waters below. "Bruno!!! I need you to pull up, NOW!!!" the Imperial barked.
"No can do, boss man!" the Nord hollered back, his tone surprisingly calm. "Don't know if you noticed, but the engines are shot! We're ridin' on fumes, man!" He looked back intently as a piece of the aft section detatched, exploding as it fell to the sea beneath them. Alderin and Netta desperately made their way to the bow of the ship. "We gotta land this sucka!" Bruno insisted.
Nathan spat angrily, and turned to Alderin, who was apparently pleading with some unseen force. "Alderin!" Nathan hollered, glaring at the Altmer. "How far are we from Solstheim!? We gotta land!"
The Altmer looked up at the Imperial, before looking down at the water beneath them. "I don't get it...we should be there by now! But I don't-" The Elf paused for a moment, looking closely at a particular point. A massive, black half-sphere sat atop the water, like a dark pearl amongst the waves. "There! MEEYA!!!" Alderin shouted, before looking back up at Nathan, slightly relieved. "That has to be it!"
"Bingo! Good work, Alderin!" Nathan cried out, before turning back to Bruno at the helm. "Bruno, there she is! Think you can get us there!?" he asked intently.
"I'll either get us there, or kill the whole lotta ya trying!" the Nord hollered back, working the controls. The nose of the vessel suddenly pitched down steeply, aiming at the black 'dot'. The hulking ship began to fall at an almost nightmarish speed, causing the hull to deteriorate even faster. The incredible speeds caused the quartet to experience a sensation of weightlessness, and each of them held onto whatever was nearby to keep from flying off.
"Bruno!!! When I said get us there, I meant in one piece!" Nathan bellered angrily, a massive Dwemer cog narrowly missing his head as it sped past. His feet dangled helplessly behind him as the ship spun, heading for the island. "What gives, man!?"
"The altitude controls took more damage then I thought!" the Nord yelled back, his hands wrapped intently around the controls. "Everybody hang on...we're gonna have us an old fashioned, uncontrolled landing!" he yelled at the others.
Alderin stared at Bruno, terrified. "You mean we're gonna CRASH!?!?[/b]" he wailed miserably. He looked 'up' and shook his head hopelessly. "I always knew somebody else's incompetence would kill me!"
The ship passed through the barrier, and suddenly everything was darkness. The only way that Nathan was able to see the others was from the illumination provided by the flames of the ship; sharp, brightly illuminated colours against the pure black that surrounded them. As they fell, however, Nathan finally noticed the island below, bathed in a pale blue glow. He could see everything...the mountains, the jagged cliffs of ice...and of course, the tower they had long searched for. The ship fell towards that tower, seeming to gain speed with every passing second, getting closer, until...
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"Guys! Hey guys! I think he's waking up!"
Nathan slowly opened his eyes, his head literally throbbing with pain. His vision was blurred, but quickly cleared to reveal Netta, sitting over him, a happy smile forming on her face. "It's about damn time you woke up..." she teased, helping him sit up.
Nathan looked around, at the massive chunks of flaming metal debris surrounding them, and at the subtle blue light surrounding them, rubbing the side of his head. "If I get knocked out just one more time on this little adventure, I'm gonna..." The Imperial clenched his hand into a tight fist as he spoke, only to have it release a moment after. He noted Bruno and Alderin sitting on a nearby rock, seemingly okay. "Well it looks like we all made it..." he grumbled with a nod to Bruno.
"And that[/b] is why you must never question my insane piloting skills!" Bruno hollered back happily, before reaching into his jacket for more mead.
Alderin looked over at Bruno, an irritated look dominating his face. "Insane is right! Don't know if you noticed, but you crashed the ship, you Nordic retard..." the Altmer scolded, shaking his head.
Nathan turned his attention now to the tower, just a few dozen feet from their location. It was massive...it stood taller than even the White Gold Tower back in the Imperial City, and was a matte black colour, with jagged protrusions. Netta noted his gaze, and chuckled slightly. "Yeah, I noticed that too...think whoever's in there is compensating?" she asked, bemused.
"So is this the great freakin' tower all the rumours are about?" Alderin asked, looking the structure up and down with a critical eye. "Because if it is...I'm really unimpressed..." The Altmer crossed his arms firmly, and began for the structure.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Bruno asked, as he and the others too made their way forward. "Would you look at the size of that thing? It's huge!" he explained, throwing his arms to the sides for effect.
"Meh, I've seen bigger..." Netta chuckled, flashing a cheerful smile at Nathan.
"Size doesn't mean crap! Where's the flash...where's the panache?" Alderin asked bitterly, nearing the main doors. "Honestly...doesn't presentation mean anything anymore?"
"Stop bellyaching, Alderin!" Nathan bellered, opening the doors. "This is where all the rare items from around Tamriel are kept! I'm sure that inside, we'll find..." The Imperial was cut short as he gazed inside the main chamber, the entrance to the tower. It was empty. No furniture, no fixtures, not so much as a painting, for crying out loud. It was completely barren. He looked back at Alderin, who was smiling smugly. "Oh, shut up..." Nathan growled. "I'm sure that the next room will be much more...spectacular?"
Many, many dull, monotonus rooms later...
"Dammit...too many stairs..." Alderin panted, his head drooping. They had been climbing the damn tower for what seemed like ages, only to see one empty room after another, with nothing worth noting as of yet. "This tower...is turning out...to be one...big...bust..." he managed between breaths.
"No kidding...would it kill whoever built this thing to throw in a teleporter?" Netta asked, irritated. They continued up the winding steps, until they noticed a large archway at the top. Expecting another desolate room, the quartet rather bleakly walked through, into the next chamber.
To nobody's surprise, not even Nathan at this point, the room was relatively bare, with no fixtures or portraits adorning the walls or floor. However, a large metal chandelier hung suspended from the ceiling, with four large, cathedral like windows near the top of the circular, stone wall. As they scanned the room, they noted one thing of interest, though. Olothan, Fyr, Sakura and Taven were each suspended by rather heavy looking chains under each of the windows, apparently unconscious.
"Awe, hell..." Nathan grumbled, racing to Sakura's position. Netta headed for Fyr, Bruno to Taven, and Alderin quickly ran to his father. As Nathan approached, Sakura slowly opened her eyes, and the Imperial sighed deeply. "Please don't tell me you tripped again?" he teased, a slight grin on his face.
"N-Nathan?" she asked, seemingly unsure of what was happening. As she shook off her confusion, however, her expression morphed into one of fear. "No...no, you shouldn't be here!" she cried out, desperate.
"What? What do you mean?" Nathan queried, cocking an eyebrow in suspicion. "We were planning on coming here from the start...and since when do you know these three?"
Meanwhile, Alderin worked angrily at his father's restraints, as the elderly mage began to wake up, along with Fyr and Taven. "Dammit, these things are either enchanted, or jammed full of tar..." Alderin groaned, inspecting the locks. "Either way, they ain't gonna budge."
"Alderin?" Olothan asked, blinking rapidly to clear his vision. He looked upon his son, confusion and worry lining his features. "It is you...isn't it?" Suddenly, his expression was one of determination. "Alderin, listen to me...all of you!" he shouted, addressing the rest of his son's group. "You have to get out of here, now!"
"He's right! It's not safe for you here!" Fyr cried out, looking at Netta. "Please...the four of you have to get out immediately! Just leave us!"
"Yeah, like that's gonna happen!" Bruno hollered back, shaking his head. "We aren't gonna just leave you guys here! Besides, you aren't really in a position to be telling us what to do..." he added, patting Taven mockingly on the head.
"This is no time for jokes!" Taven shouted at Bruno, anger lining his voice. "It's dangerous here...this is serious!"
"Please...everything's serious to somebody..." Netta replied, working uselessly at Fyr's locks. She sighed, and noted the mage's wounds. "How did you guys get here, anyway? And who did this to you?" she asked, curious.
"I did..." a deep, rumbling voice echoed through the room. Nathan, Alderin, Netta and Bruno turned to see a figure in Daedric armour, sporting the Masque of Clavicus Vile, step into the room from the descending staircase. It carried no weapons, and once at the bottom of the steps, made no attempt to approach, simply stood at the edge of the room, watching them.
"Alderin, please..." Olothan pleaded, his voice desperate. HIs face was one of worry, and almost fear. "Get out of here!"
"Not a chance, dad!" Alderin replied, cocky, as he and his companions formed up in the middle of the room, glaring at the new figure. "And just who the hell are you supposed to be? A reject from some Daedra worshipping psycho ward?" Alderin questioned.
"Heh...I find your arrogance amusing, Elf..." the figure mused. It crossed its arms, and glared back at the quartet. "I...am Vanion."
"Well no crap..." Netta scowled, placing her left hand on her hip. She turned to the others, a mocking look on her face. "Hey guys, it's Vanion! Can't believe we missed that!" she hollered sarcastically, before returning her gaze to the figure. "Is that supposed to mean something?"
"Not to the four of you, I suppose..." the man chuckled. "But once, I was known across Tamriel...feared, even...a man of myth. But for the last fifty years, I have sat here, forgotten to that world, recovering Tamriel's lost heritage, and biding my time..." Vanion explained.
"Yeah, stealing all the artifacts from around Tamriel is great fun..." Nathan grumbled, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Only question is, why?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Alderin asked, looking over at Nathan. "First you get the relics...then you get the power..." The Altmer grinned wryly. "Then you get the women..."
"I don't know, Alderin...you'd have to be pretty desperate to find him attractive..." Netta replied, gesturing at Vanion. She gave a slight shrug in the man's direction afterwards, a look of indifference on her face. "No offense."
"Rather..." Vanion grumbled, before taking a single step forward. "You see, the relics do bring power...power enough to remake Tamriel, as I see fit..." he explained. "The people are conflicted, and Talos' beloved Empire is weak...I will make a new empire, and unify the people! They will all serve but a single master! Me."
"Master?" Bruno asked aloud, remembering what Korst and the others had said. "Holy crap...you're the bastard that sent Korst and Riley after us, aren't ya?" the Nord demanded.
"Ah yes, them..." Vanion chuckled, now moving towards Nathan and the others. "You see, when I first took this island, some pathetic Nord and his pet skull were babbling on about how one day, four individuals would defeat me, and 'restore' Solstheim..." The man shook his head. "Idiot."
"No..." Alderin muttered, his eyes bulging wide in fear. "No...not a prophecy!!! It's the one pitfall cliché we've managed to avoid up to this point!!!" the Altmer wailed.
"But no longer!" Vanion roared. "Korst and the others were a test, you see. I knew that if the four of you could defeat them, then you would be worthy opponents...for me..."
"Mind if I ask one thing?" Nathan interrupted, pointing back at Sakura and the others. "What were you gonna do with them?"
"Oh, them? Well it's actually quite simple, really," Vanion began. "They came here, once they learned of my presence...to protect the four of you, believe it or not. They were arrogant enough to believe they could defeat me. I could have killed them...but I thought, what more fitting a punishment is there...then to force them..." Vanion extended his hands before him, and with a flash of blue light, the claymores Umbra and Chrysamere appeared in his hands. "To watch the four of you die?" He slashed through the air with the weapons, displaying complete control over the massive blades, before continuing his approach.
Nathan, Alderin, Netta and Bruno stood shoulder to shoulder, and readied their weapons, as Vanion slowly marched towards them. "Oh...bloody hell..." Nathan grumbled sourly, adopting a battle stance.
The calm before the storm...
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Post by DarkNova50 on Mar 9, 2009 20:25:54 GMT
Chapter 19: Showdown[/b] (High noon it ain't...)
Vanion chose to halt his approach several metres from the quartet, holding his blades loosely at his sides. The faint illumination from the overhead chandelier played over the lengths of the weapons, and he cocked his head quizzically to one side. "You poor fools, you really have no idea what you're up against, do you?" he asked, his tone bemused. The smug face of his helmet seemed to look back at each of them, mockingly. "I long ago mastered fighting styles that you...have never even heard of, and..."
Alderin lazily rolled his eyes, his mouth gaping somewhat. "Look, if you're gonna go ahead and monologue all day..." the Altmer interrupted, his voice exhasperated. "Then could you do me a favour, and just kill us now? Because whatever you have in mind, it can't be any worse than listening to a long-winded speech about how freakin' great you are..."
Nathan gave a slight sigh, turning to Vanion. "I hate to be a vindictive, sadistic asshole..." the Imperial began, his expression distraught. "But in this case...I have to agree with...Alderin..." He shuddered violently in disgust.
It was at this point that Bruno's rather charming social skills came into play, as he angrily gripped the handle of his hammer. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glared at Vanion, before lifting the weapon above his head, and dashing forward. "I say less chat, more splat!" the Nord roared, preparing to bring down his hammer. "BRUNO SMASH!"
Vanion's gaze followed the Nord as he charged, before he shook his head disapprovingly. "Idiot..." he chuckled as the Nord closed the gap between them. With one fluid motion, the man brought up a single foot, and his boot slammed angrily into Bruno's chest. There was a dull thud as the Nord went careening back, landing on then skidding across the hard stone floor until slamming into the wall. He let out a slight groan.
Netta turned to Bruno, concern and worry dominating the young Elf's features. "Bruno!" she cried out worriedly. "Are you alright!?"
"Unh...I'm okay..." the Nord moaned miserably, barely moving. He managed to force himself into a sitting position, leaning back on the wall behind him for support. "Just...ya know that feeling of a thousand Clanfear's clawing you to death? I got that...right now..."
Alderin glanced back at Bruno for a brief second, before turning back to their opponent. "He's fine..." the Altmer insisted, a relative lack of concern in his voice. "I'm more worried about us...we're in a giant cesspool of shit, and the tide's about to come in..." Alderin nervously brought up his staff, and thrust it in Vanion's general direction.
Vanion was unaffected, however, as his armour flashed a bright purple, absorbing the spell. His armour began to fade back to black as he resumed his approach, before it flared up again, after another unsuccessful attack by Alderin. "Heh...spell absorbtion...ain't it swell..." he explained smugly, extending his fist, still clutching Chrysamere. An arc of lightning struck Alderin in the chest, and the Altmer let out a yelp of pain as he soared high into the air, before landing in a heap on the floor nearby.
Netta looked cautiously between Alderin and Bruno, tightening her grasp on her daggers. She glanced over at Nathan, a sympathetic look on her face. "Now Nathan, I know things look bad..." she began, attempting to sound reassuring. "But-"
"Netta, if you tell me that things could be worse..." Nathan interjected, irritated. He pointed a solitary finger at the Dunmer, his right eye twitching erratically. "I'm gonna flip out..."
"Oh, but she's right, Nathan..." Vanion chuckled, his right hand enveloped with red light. "Things could be much worse..." He plunged Chrysamere angrily into the floor beneath him, and a massive wave of the red light washed over Nathan and Netta, and swept over Bruno and Alderin as well, both of whom were struggling to get back up. Nathan noted that he didn't feel anything unusual, until he glanced down at his longsword. The weapon was quickly corroding, the edge becoming blunt, and tarnished.
"Well...this is nice..." Netta scowled, dropping her now useless daggers onto the floor beneath them. Even as they hit the stone with a dull metallic thwak, they continued to deteriorate. She looked over at Nathan with an anxious look on her face, as the Imperial's longsword fell to the floor in dulled, jagged pieces.
"Great!" Alderin hollered, agitation lining his voice. He managed to pick himself up off the ground, relatively unhurt. "We've got no weapons, and magic doesn't work on this guy! Now what the hell do we do!?" the Altmer yelled frantically, looking between the others. There was a heavy thud as the head of Bruno's hammer fell clumsily to the ground.
"I think it's time for our all purpose contingency plan..." Nathan muttered, his eyes darting for the stairs they had come up. "Everybody haul ass!" However, as the quartet desperately sprinted for the stairs, a heavy gate of unknown material dropped from above, barring their way. Bruno and Netta tried to find a way past it as Nathan and Alderin turned to face Vanion, standing in the centre of the room.
"Did you honestly think once I had you in my grasp, I was going to let you go?" Vanion asked, readying his claymores. "And even if you did escape the tower, what then? Your airship is destroyed, and there is nowhere you can hide from me on this island..."
"If you think we're clever enough to plan that far ahead, you obviously don't know us that well..." Netta replied, turning around to face Vanion. "Everything we do is on an impromptu, seat of the pants basis...and it's worked so far..."
"Not anymore..." their attacker growled in response, preparing to charge. His blades moved like extensions of his own arms, as he poised them like massive, metal claws.
"Well...looks like this is it..." Alderin groaned, shaking his head. "You know, it's at times like this that I think-"
"Shut up a second!" Bruno exclaimed, his gaze falling on the other side of the room. He looked at the others, desperation in his eyes. "Maybe if we can make it over there..."
"It's worth a shot!" Nathan confirmed, nodding his head. Vanion took a flying lunge at the group, his blades stretching out before him as he slashed at them. Nathan and the others had barely enough time to dodge the nightmarish assault, before weaving hastily around Vanion and making for the other staircase, adrenaline fuelling their retreat.
"You can't hide from me..." Vanion snarled, before turning to Olothan and the others. "I'm afraid you won't have the priviledge of seeing me kill the four of them..." He commented in a mocking, apologetic tone, waving his hand dismissively. He took up his weapons and made his way to the base of the stairs. "But don't worry...I promise I'll bring their bloody corpses back down afterwards, for you to see..." And with that, the man bolted up the stairs, in pursuit of Nathan and the others.
Olothan shook his head miserably, as he hung there, helpless. "Alderin...I'm sorry..." he whispered.
____________
Nathan and the others struggled up the winding steps that coiled along the inside of the tower, around a central support column of stone. It seemed like they had been climbing forever, constantly with the sound of Vanion's Daedric boots clapping against the steps just behind them. And the effects of fatigue were slowly taking their toll.
"Dammit...losing steam..." Alderin wheezed, gasping between words. He angrily clutched at his chest. "Dammit...can't you guys...just carry me up?"
"Fat chance..." Netta puffed, frantically wiping the sweat from her brow. They were all tired, but the relentless sound of Vanion behind them spurred the quartet on. "Damn...haven't gotten a workout like this since-"
"I don't wanna hear it!" Nathan barked, as the foursome finally made it to a landing; a large, mostly empty circular room, poorly lit, but with a lift in the middle of the floor. The lift itself was surrounded by odd looking machinery, and had a small control panel in the centre of the platform. "Alright, everybody on now!" the Imperial ordered.
The quartet quickly rushed onto the machine, grouping in the centre. Alderin hysterically fiddled with the controls for a moment, as the shadow of a man wearing Daedric armour rounded the steps leading to the room. With a low metallic grind, the lift quickly ascended, leading to the outside world, and leaving Vanion trapped down below.
Once at the top, Nathan and the others carefully took in their surroundings. There was nothing but blackness outside the top of the tower, almost as if they stood in a void. Cold, biting air rushed past them as they raced to one of the low stone walls, slightly lower than the waist, and looked out below. From this vantage point, the foursome could see the majority of Solstheim, made visible by the odd blue light they had seen before. Smaller towers dotted the landscape in the distance, and odd creatures could be seen moving about the island.
"Beautiful, in its own way..." a hauntingly familiar voice rang out calmly from behind them. Nathan and the others turned to see Vanion, standing on the centre of the lift, facing them. "The view from here is really quite magnificent...you're fortunate you were able to see it while you still had the chance..."
"Hold on a damn minute!" Netta bellered, pointing an accusing finger at the Imperial. "How the hell did you get up here without using the lift?"
"A simple recall spell..." Vanion replied, thrusting his hands out to the sides. "No aspiring warlord should be without one..." With a flare of intense blue light, Chrysamere and Umbra vanished into the void, and the Imperial slowly flexed his gauntleted hands. "Heh...I'm going to enjoy this..." he muttered, slowly moving forward.
"Wait! You don't wanna kill us!" Alderin cried out desperately, his eyes frantic. He pointed hysterically at the advancing man. "What with the...uh...manifestations of guilt! And the sleeplessness! Oh yeah, bad mojo! Mess you up!"
"Please...I am beyond remorse, beyond morality..." Vanion explained, his voice cold. "Years from now, I will look back on your deaths, and laugh..."
"Crap," Nathan spat under his breath.
"Damn you!" Bruno roared, lunging forward. Vanion caught the Nord outside the head with a backhanded strike, however, sending him sprawling across the stone beneath them. The Nord slammed into the low dividing wall, and slumped, motionless. With Bruno incapacitated, Vanion turned to Alderin, and reached out with a single hand.
"Oh shit!" Alderin cried out as Vanion grabbed him by the collar, lifting him off the ground. Nathan and Netta watched in horror as their assailant threw the Altmer effortlessly up and behind him, the Elf's trajectory leading off the other side of the tower. "OH SHIT!"
"Alderin!" Nathan cried out, rushing past Vanion and towards the other side of the top. With an impressive feat of acrobatics, he lurched off the side, grasping Alderin's arm with one hand and the edge of the tower with the other. He grit his teeth as his arms were drawn taut.
Alderin used his available hand to grasp desperately at Nathan's arm, before looking down at the ground far below. The blue light revealed debris from the ruined airship and jagged chunks of ice, awaiting them like a gaping maw, ready to consume the duo. "Dammit, Nathan!" the Altmer cried out, looking up at the Imperial. "If you let us fall, I'm gonna haunt yer ass!"
Nathan glared down at the Elf, fury raging in his eyes. "You maniacal, ungrateful little bastard!" the Imperial roared angrily. "I just risked my ass to save you, and that's all you have to say!?" His face began to show the strain of holding both of them up with a solitary arm.
There was a shrill cry that shot out from overhead, and Netta came flying off the edge of the tower. She barely managed to grab onto Alderin's leg as she fell, narrowly avoiding death. "Dammit, that was close!" she cried out, the wind whipping snow angrily at the dangling trio.
Nathan looked up at the edge of the tower to see Vanion, looming proudly over them. The Imperial slowly removed his helmet, revealing the man beneath. He was bald, and had a rounded face, his skin smooth and pale. His thin brown eyebrows arched in pleasure as his narrow lips formed a slight smile. "I want to witness your deaths with my own eyes..." he explained, slowly placing a single boot on Nathan's hand. There was a distinct crunching noise as the man pressed down, twisting his foot back and forth. "After all, your deaths mark the beginning of a new age for Tamriel..."
"Nathan!" Netta cried out, looking up worriedly as the young Imperial struggled to keep them from falling. "Hold on!"
"I'm trying, dammit!" Nathan roared back in response, wincing in pain. Vanion's laugh of pleasure rang out above him as he felt his hand crushed. "Hell, it'd help if the two of you weren't so [censored] heavy!"
Alderin looked down at Netta, his expression grave. "You heard the man, Netta!" the Altmer barked, furrowing his brow. "Let go! You will fall to a gruesome death, but Nathan, and more importantly, I, will be spared..."
"Screw you, fatso!" the Dunmer shot back angrily, scowling at the Altmer. "I have a perfect figure! You can't blame this crap on me!"
"Well one of you idiots do something!" Nathan hollered at the top of his lungs, his grip beginning to loosen. "I can't hold on forever!"
Vanion removed the pressure of his boot, allowing it to hover over Nathan's hand for a moment. "And now is where we part ways, I'm afraid..." he mocked, giving a sadistic smile to the trio. "But fear not, for you will live on in my memories, at least..."
"I feel better already..." Alderin muttered, shaking his head miserably.
"I'm sure..." Vanion chuckled, preparing to bring down his boot. "Now, di-"
"Hey you, asshole!" a deep voice roared from behind. Vanion spun around to see Bruno, with a look of fury on his face, and a slight trickle of blood dripping from his forehead. The hulking Nord charged forward, head lowered, straight at Vanion.
"This is really too much, you idiot!" Vanion taunted, narrowing his eyes slightly. "I've already proven my superiority over you twice, and now you have not even a weapon, or your pathetic friends to help you!" He gave a smug, assured smile. "What makes you think round three will go any better?"
"This!" the Nord yelled in response, hefting something in his hand. "So here's a present!" he hollered, tossing the item. However, Vanion did not attempt to dodge the object as it raced for him, a sense of superiority and cockiness overtaking him. He merely smiled smugly as the bottle crashed into his face, mead exploding from it.
Vanion's expression was one of dumbfounded shock, as the fermented honey made its way into his eyes, and as he breathed it through his nose. He very quickly began to claw at his face, crying out in pain. "My eyes! It burns!"
"Bruno SLAM!" Bruno roared, crashing into Vanion with a brutal bodycheck. The considerable force of Bruno's attack, coupled with Vanion's confusion and inability to see, proved to be the fatal combination as the Imperial was thrown clumsily off the side of the tower.
Nathan, Bruno, Alderin and Netta looked down below them, watching in surprise as Vanion plumetted to the ground below. As his enraged cries rang out, however, Netta cocked a suspicious eyebrow. "Wait...are we sure that the fall is gonna kill him?" the Dunmer chimed in, unsure.
Finally, Vanion neared the ground, still wiping the mead from his face. With his vision finally restored, he looked below him to see a jagged piece of airship metal jutting out of the ground, in his path. He slammed into it, face-first, his head impaling itself on the debris. Blood, bone and brain exploded back from the wound as his head was obliterated, and showered down around his corpse. His armoured body went limp, and Vanion was no more.
The whites of the quartet's eyes were larger and more visible than normal, as they watched the spectacle below them in surprise. After a moment of shocked silence, Alderin gave a slight huff of approval. "Well, if the fall didn't kill him, the landing did..." the Altmer surmised.
"Yeah...I guess that ship did come in handy, after all!" Netta replied happily, looking up at the others. Bruno gave the young Dunmer a curt nod.
"Guys, hate to be a downer..." Nathan interjected, his voice irritated. "But mortal danger? Threat of death? Shoulders seperating?"
"Right..." Bruno replied, reaching down and helping the others up. Once each of them had been safely retrieved, they looked out over Solstheim, content with the knowledge that Vanion was dead.
"Well, we did it!" Netta summed up happily, looking between the others excitedly. "We made it to Solstheim, found the tower, and beat Vanion!"
"Yeah...nothing but smooth sailing from here on out..." Alderin added, sporting a satisfied smile. "All the hard stuff is ov-"
The Altmer was cut off as the tower shook violently, causing the quartet to nearly lose their balance. They quickly looked over the edge, where they saw a massive piece of the tower crumble, and fall to the ground below. There was another brutal shake, and a massive split formed in the side of the structure.
"Ah, crap..." Alderin moaned sourly, shaking his head, his gaze finding only his feet.
On the clock...
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Post by DarkNova50 on Mar 9, 2009 20:26:16 GMT
Chapter 20: The Bell Tolls for Thee (Long road home...)
There was a nightmarish shudder as the tower shifted its weight uneasily upon its crumbling foundation. Massive cracks and splits worked their way up the sides, revealing the stucture's fatigue. Enormous chunks of rubble and debris rained down on the ground below, piling on top of the airship and Vanion's corpse.
"Aw hell!" Alderin cried out hysterically, as the group rushed frantically down the winding steps from whence they came. "We're never gonna make it all the way down in time! This crappy tower is falling apart! Lousy architecture!" He flashed a disgruntled glare in the general direction of Netta and Bruno. "Probably made by a Nord, or a Dunmer!"
"Cut the pompous attitude, Alderin!" Nathan hollered angrily, sweat beading on his brow. "Besides, I don't hear alot of real helpful suggestions coming from you! This is the best plan we got! And right now, I-" The Imperial was cut off by a sharp cracking sound, as a large piece of rock dislodged from the ceiling overhead, wedging itself into the staircase ahead. Nathan's shoulders slumped miserably as he simply stared at the obstruction.
"Oh, crap," Netta grumbled, biting her lower lip anxiously. She glanced between the others, her eyebrows slanted in worry. "Trapped in here, an enclosed space made of stone?" The Dunmer shuddered nervously. "It's like being in a mausoleum."
"You know," Bruno began in response, crossing his arms calmly. "I really much prefer your somewhat out of context optimism to your rather depressing realism," the Nord explained. There was another massive jolt throughout the tower, and Bruno reached almost instinctively for a bottle of mead.
Netta gave a slight shrug as Nathan turned angrily to Alderin, frustration dominating his features. "Alright, Alderin, it's time to earn your cheque!" the Imperial instructed forcefully, his brow furrowed. "Figure out a way to get us the hell outta here!"
"Me!?" Alderin hollered back, panicked. "What the hell do you expect me to do!?"
"Well you're a mage, ain't ya?" Netta asked, bracing a single hand against her hip. "Can't you just use a spell to send us on out merry way?"
Alderin grit his teeth angrily in response. "Well why didn't you just say so!?" he roared, sarcasm lining his voice. "I'll just cast my save our sorry asses spell, which turns everything to rainbows and baby ducks!" His hands clenched into fists of fury as he glared at the Dunmer. "Why didn't I think of that!?"
Nathan quickly prepared to lunge at the Altmer, hands outstretched, as an idea began forming in his mind. He let his face take on an expression of relative indifference, and he shrugged nonchalantly. "Alright, Alderin, you win," he explained, his voice level and calm. He waved his hand dismissively. "You don't have to do anything."
Alderin cocked a single eyebrow in curiousity. "What's that? Did I hear you right?" he asked, unsure.
"Nathan? What's wrong?" Netta asked worriedly, her eyes scanning the Imperial's face.
"Crap. The pressure's finally got to 'im," Bruno muttered to himself, shaking his head. He cracked open his bottle of liquor. "It's always so sad when it happens."
Nathan patted Alderin calmly on the shoulder. "Yup, looks like we're gonna die here," he explained as the tower was plagued by another jolt. He moved his head in closer to the Altmer's ear. "Just remember, that we'll all be dead together here, Alderin," the Imperial whispered sadistically. "Not just me and Netta, but you, and Bruno." Nathan's lips curled into an evil smile. "Together for eternity." Netta grinned happily as she figured out the Imperial's agenda.
Alderin's eyes shot wide in fear and horror, as he looked over to Bruno. The Nord gulped down mead by the mouthful, letting the fermented honey flow sloppily down his face and neck. "For, eternity?" Alderin muttered to himself, frightened.
"That's right, Alderin," Nathan whipered, placing his hands on the Elf's shoulders. "Two corpses, in one grave."
Alderin gave Nathan a determined look as his hands began to flare a bright purple. "Screw that shit!" the Altmer roared confidently. The group was engulfed by the flare of purple light, even as the area they were in collapsed, debris and dust falling all around them.
__________
Olothan lay helpless on the floor of the chamber, his arms outstretched before him. Just before the tower started shaking, his restraints and those of the others had come undone, and the massive gate blocking the steps leading down had collapsed. However, he and the others were depleted of strength and energy, unable to make their escape as their prison came down around them.
"Well, my dear old friend," Fyr began, his face turning to face Olothan. The elderly Dunmer sighed slightly. "It looks like this is the end."
Sakura gave an exhasperated sigh on the other side of the room. "I really wish you'd stop saying that," she grumbled.
Olothan prepared to say something as a flash of purple light pulsed in the middle of the room. Squinting slightly, the Altmer watched as four figures stepped out of the light, and into the chamber. He immediately recognized them as Nathan and the others.
"Nathan!" Sakura cried out happily, as the purple light faded. "You're alive! But, how did you stop Vanion?"
Nathan grinned slightly. "Let's just say that Vanion can't handle his mead," the Imperial replied. He looked over at Bruno, who gave a curt nod of agreement.
"Alderin, my son!" Olothan exclaimed excitedly. "You used the teleportation spell I taught you? And you didn't even end up inside a wall this time! Well done!"
"Yeah," Alderin grumbled, scratching his head as he walked over. "Let's just say I'm highly motivated not to die in this specific tower." He turned his gaze to Bruno for a moment. "And not with this specific company."
Netta cocked a single mischevious eyebrow at Nathan, a half-smile on her lips. "You know, I think you enjoyed that a little too much," she accused.
Nathan shrugged innocently as Bruno marched over to Fyr and Taven, draping one of them over each shoulder. "Perhaps. But hey, you gotta love what you do, right?" he replied, before heading over to Sakura.
"That's right!" Netta agreed happily, heading over to Alderin to help him with Olothan. "After all, that's why I-"
"Look, I hate to bring this up," Taven grumbled irritably to the others, his ears pointing back as he spoke. "But perhaps we should be getting our asses out of here, yes?"
"Oh, right," Nathan replied, as he gently picked up Sakura. He securely placed one arm beneath her knees, the other around her torso, and headed for the stairs leading down the tower. Bruno, Netta and Alderin, as well as their respective 'guests' were quick to follow Nathan's lead.
______________
The various chambers and rooms were undoubtedly much more interesting going down than coming up, in Nathan's opinion. Massive chunks of rubble rained down around them constantly, and the group barely managed to continue dodging them as they slammed angrily into the floor. "Hey Alderin!" Nathan cried out as they ran through another chamber. "Can't you just poof us outta here like you did before!?"
"I'm not a damn machine, you ass hole!" the Altmer bellered in reply, he and Netta carrying Olothan as one. "That crap took up alot of magic! I can't cast it again for awhile!"
"Go figure! The one time you actually prove to be useful, and it's just one big tease!" Nathan roared angrily, tightening his grip on Sakura. The young Breton used what strength she had to wrap her arms around the Imperial's neck.
"Holy hell, man, hustle up now!" Fyr ordered Bruno, his voice stern and commanding. "By Tiber Septim, put your back into it! Why, back in my day, if we were escaping from a collapsing tower-"
"Just shut up, ya old coot!" Bruno bellered angrily. "I don't need any instructions on how to save your sorry old behind!"
Nathan squinted slightly as he saw a glimmer up ahead, through the next doorway. The familiar blue glow, and the snow covered ground, were clearly visible through the opening. "There!" the Imperial cried out, forcing his legs to move even faster. He squeezed his eyes shut as the sound of collapsing stone rang out behind him. "Santuary!" he bellered as he bolted through the doorway.
Collectively, Nathan and the others ran from the tower as its sturdy walls finally crumbled, causing the tower to collapse forcefully into the ground. A massive shockwave of dust shot out from the site, slamming into Nathan's back. He stumbled forward clumsily, falling face first into the snow with Sakura, the others following suit around him. Dazed, he rolled onto his back, and along with the others watched as a pillar of white light shot out from the ruined tower, colliding with the artificial barrier overhead. Lightning roiled across the black dome, punching holes through it, until finally, for the first time in fifty years, the real night sky shone over Solstheim.
There was a moment of tranquil silence as the eight of them lay there in the snow, finally out of immediate peril, watching the hundreds of stars overhead twinkle elegantly. "Huh," Alderin finally huffed, impressed. "Now that's not something you see everyday."
"Indeed it isn't," a voice remarked from behind them. Nathan bolted up onto his feet, and turned around to see a well dressed Altmer standing a few meters away, a company of at least three dozen Legionnaires standing at his back. Netta, Bruno and Alderin too got to their feet, and the unidentified Altmer bowed his head in greeting.
"Ocato!?" Olothan cried out in surprise. The Chancellor reached down, and helped the elderly mage up out of the snow, propping him up with one of his arms.
"Good to see you again, Olothan," Ocato replied happily with a smile. He looked down at Fyr, and nodded politely. "You too, Fyr."
"You old bastard!" Fyr cried out happily, almost laughing. "It's been awhile!"
"Indeed it has," Ocato responded, a few Legionnaires moving forward to help Fyr, Sakura and Taven up off the ground. One of them took Olothan from Ocato, and the Chancellor grinned slightly. "Too long, in fact."
"Somebody mind telling me what the hell is going on!?" Alderin demanded angrily, stomping his feet. "What the hell are you doing here, Ocato?"
"Well, a few days ago, I heard some rumours that somebody was trying to find the Tower of Tamriel," Ocato explained, his hands gesturing side to side. "I tried to get into contact with Olothan, using that infernal communicator of his, to see if he knew what was going on, but instead I got Martha." Ocato turned to Olothan, crossing his arms smugly. "She told me about your little hair brained scheme, and asked if I could help. So, here I am, with as many Legionnaires as I could muster."
"Yeah, after all the fighting is over, go figure," Alderin grumbled sourly, shaking his head in disbelief. Ocato gave a slight shrug in reply.
"Well, better late than never," Nathan chimed in, nodding his head. "You and you boys can help us recover all those relics from the rubble."
Ocato furrowed his brow slightly. "Yes, about that," he began tentatively. "You see, after the little Vanion incident, the Elder Council has decided it would be best for them to take possession of the relics, rather than risk another situation like this." The Altmer nodded his head in courtesy. "So you see, we'll be taking possession of the relics. I hope you understand."
Nathan stared out blankly into space, his right eye twitching periodically. Netta walked up beside him, and patted him on the back reassuringly. "Don't worry, Nathan. We still get all the other treasure and junk!" the Dunmer said cheerfully.
"I'm afraid not," Ocato quickly corrected. "You see, I've also come to learn that you four have upset a rather large number of people on you journey." The Chancellor pulled out a long piece of parchment, and read it carefully. "For starters, the Birthright Guild is suing for defamation of character, on the grounds you called them a cult. The Hackdirt City Council is claiming damages for the 'death of the leader', and the Mythic Dawn has also made charges." The Chancellor folded up the list and tucked it in his robe. "There are more, but I won't bore you with all of them."
Nathan blinked suddenly, snapping out of his shock. "The Mythic Dawn? You mean Camoran's lot!?" The Imperial glared at Ocato with irritation. "But aren't they the enemy!?"
"Technically speaking, yes," Ocato confirmed, nodding while folding his arms over his chest. "However, under the Daedra Act, they still have some legal recourse. I don't like it, but then again, I don't pretend to understand the rules. I merely enforce them. After all, I'm a politician." Ocato sighed deeply. "Again, I'm sorry, but all the treasure will be used to pay your various fines."
"Well isn't that a kick in the teeth," Netta sighed, her shoulders drooping. Nathan wrapped a single arm around her shoulders in consolation.
"Don't worry guys," Bruno reassured sincerely, smiling happily. "We can use the money from Alderin's book thingy to buy plenty of booze back in Morrowind. That'll cheer you up!" The Nord nodded in approval of his own flawless plan. "Discount booze is my favourite."
Ocato arched a single eyebrow in curiousity. "Well, actually, the Mage's Guild will be writing the official story of this incident. I owe the current Guildmaster a favour, and, well, he made me promise before I left Cyrodiil, if this all worked out." He turned his attention to Bruno. "And, King Helseth just instated a new liquor tax in Morrowind. There's no discounts on alcohol there now, I assure you."
Alderin held his hand up in objection as a Legionnaire ran up to Ocato. "So let me see if I got this straight, you pompous figurehead," the Altmer growled. The Legionnaires with Olothan, Fyr, Taven and Sakura made their way to large Imperial ships in the distance. "We came all this way, through all sorts of perilous crap, fought Daedra, cultists, and some lunatic with a God complex-" He jabbed an accusing finger in the Chancellor's chest. "And you're telling me we don't have so much as a lousy Septim to show for it?"
Ocato slowly nodded his head in bleak confirmation. Alderin's lips pursed in frustration, and he made his way over to the others. "Perhaps you four can take some amount of pleasure in the fact that you've saved Tamriel, and in the experience you've gained as individuals," Ocato suggested pleasantly.
Nathan and the others looked between each other, reflecting on the Chancellor's words. Finally, Nathan addressed the Elf. "Well, do you think you could at least give us a lift back to Morrowind? I really don't feel like we should come out of this empty handed."
"Yeah, screw that self-satisfaction garbage," Alderin added sternly.
Ocato sighed slightly. "There's no room, I'm afraid," he pointed out. "There's just enough room for the relics and treasure to fit on board, as well Olothan and the others. We didn't plan on you four being here." He paused for a moment. "We have a smaller vessel available, if you'd like to take that."
Nathan gave an exhasperated sigh. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing," he pointed out. Ocato nodded, and led the four of them to the ship where they were lowering the small, four man boat.
Netta looked between the others as they walked, and grinned happily. "You see guys? At least we finally caught a break," the young Dunmer pointed out, before looking back at the tiny ship. Unlike most, though, its design was complex, and it was made of an odd orange metal. "Is it just me, or does that look familiar?"
"I don't see how it could," Ocato replied, scratching his head. "After all, it's only a prototype at this point." He looked back at the quartet. "Designed by one Louis Beauchamp."
"Beauchamp!?" Nathan, Netta and Bruno exclaimed simultaneously in shock and horror.
"Holy hell!" Alderin roared angrily. He looked up at the night sky, and shook his fist in rage. "Can't we ever get a break!?"
The integrity of heroes.
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