The nature of dreams has always been a rather disturbing thing to ponder.
Is there really such a thing as fate? Can it be foretold in dreams? I knew
not at first, but I believe it now.
I can only guess I was dreaming. There is no other way to explain it. I had been on a ship, bound south from the land of Skyrim to Vvardenfel, as punishment. For what crime, I do not know. I do not think I ever will.
Our ship had been at sea for weeks, and I had grown sick. I grew feverish upon the third week of our journey, and had lain in my hammock below deck, along with the rats and other vermin. I was told that I drifted in and out of consciousness for days, mumbling incomprehensible words.
In my dream, vision, whatever the apparition should be called, I could barely see. All that there was to see was a bloody mist. Crimson, and putrid, it hung over the scene like a cloud hanging over the land before the rain. I could not feel my body, almost as if I were detached from it. I could feel my spirit soaring, not constrained to stay bound to the earth in a physical form.
I heard a voice calling to me, a soft voice, yet possessed of a regal note that made me "Sepharoth, Nerevar reborn. Incarnate. I leave it to you to find the secret of your past, Nerevar. Restore the land of Vvardenfel to what it was, and the thread of prohpecy will spin true. Fail, and your people will live forever as slaves to the foreign nwah who plague the land's shores." I could not place where the voice was coming from, and as it faded away, I awoke with a start. "Find yourself, Nerevar..." I heard, then the voice went silent.
The start was enough to make me fall out of my hammock and collapse on the deck. I winced as I picked my hand back up and looked at a splinter embedded in my hand. Grimacing slightly, I grasped the offending bit of wood from my hand and pulled. I threw the piece away, and rubbed my palm as the blood flowed onto it. The blue/green liquid flowed freely for a small time then stopped. I slowly stood,and walked towards the door. I was met by an Imperial Guard in his uniform mail, sporting what looked, sounded and smelled to be a massive hangover. I could almost taste the illegal Skooma from his breath as he spoke. "Thuh captain wants you up on deck right away, shcum." he said, a slight slur to his words.
Grabbing a light colored shirt of homespun cloth, the only other article of clothing I possessed other than my breeches, I hastily put it on and went up into the sunlight...
The sunlight assaulted my eyes, as I went up on deck. I had not seen the sun for a month, and the brightness threatened to blind me. I shaded my eyes, and found the crew of the Imperial vessel all waiting for me to disembark. I was roughly escorted by two of the burliest members of the crew off the docking plank and onto the dock itself.
Upon disembarking, I was met there by a man in a flowing robe, befitting a scholar of the M'challa order. Were it not for his elevated station, I would have laughed. He was short and pudgy, pale skin and balding before Age should have let him. I kept this to myself, however, since I would probably be whipped had I said anything.
He bowed and I did likewise...as far as the Guar next to me would allow. "Greetings and welcome to Vvardenfel, master Sepharoth." the man said, in a voice high enough to be a child's. I wondered how he had managed not to be laughed at his entire life. "My name is Severus Apius, and I am the recorder here at the Census and Excise office."
I replied "Ah, so I am to be recorded before I am set free to go kill myself, eh?" I said, a note of scorn in my voice.
"No, you are to be recorded because of a direct order from the Emperor Uriel Septim." The little man's face looked as if it were about to fill with blood, then flush it all out in waves of self accomplishment. As if his entire life's purpose was to get a set of orders from the emperor. I could only think that his life must have been a total waste then... "The emperor requested you to be released from prison, so you should be grateful." he said, beckoning me into the office at the end of the dock.
The two guards holding me released me and went off in some unknown direction, probably to go and swill some cheap Cyrodillic whiskey, or some other inexpensive alcohol. I couldn't help but quietly chuckle at the predictability of how they acted. After a month of having to be at the beck and call of the master of the ship, they would have a sloshed shore leave before returning. Probably to a beating, but that was out of my hands now.
I ducked into the doorway of the Census and Excise office to await whatever Fate held for me there...
I went inside the small office to find a few candles lighting the room, and two chairs set up. There was a table nearby, and from it I caught the scent of delicious smelling food. I did all I could to suppress it, but eventually my stomach growled. I had been sick for the past week, and had eaten little.
The little man, Apius I guess his name was, smiled at me as I tried to contain myself. "Yes, you are to be fed before setting out." he said, a slight smirk on his face.
He sat down in one of the chairs and took a quill and some parchment from a small table to his right. "So...Sepharoth. I have some questions that I need to ask you before I let you be on your way."
Making my way over to the other chair, I cautiously let myself down onto it. It had been a long time since I had sat in a chair, and never one like this. I had never been shown this kind of opulence in my life. But then again, growing up in prison can have that effect on you. "You have your questions, I might have answers. Ask if you are going to." I said, my stomach still nagging.
"First, I'll need to know your field of study." he said, calmly starting to write.
"And that means?" I asked, having no clue as to what he meant.
"Do you plan on learning the magics of the world? Do you plan on being a member of the Legion? ...What is your field of study?"
Still a little confused, I shrugged. "I have always had a talent with physical things. Never much inclined to the magics, though they might be useful."
"Mhmmm..." Severus said, still writing with his quill. "Alright. I have written orders..." he said, between his scratchings "for you to be apprenticed to... Master Caius Cosades. He...is the master of the Blades here in Vvardenfel."
"The Blades?" I asked, eyebrow arched in confusion. "Who in Sheogorath are they?"
"The Blades are the Emperors most trusted emmisaries...spies, you might say. Incognito observers. They are how the Emperor gets his information to rule the Empire."
"And I am to be an apprentice?" I asked. "Apprentice for the Blades..." I thought. This prospect didn't seem so bad at all... "What opportunities are there for advancement?" I asked, somewhat hastily. "Is there any way for me to rise above my station?" I asked, musing somewhat.
Severus Apius looked at me with a small frown of contempt, previously unseen. "You are beyond chance of advancement, convict!" he said with a sneer of disgust. "You have only orders, which are to be obeyed." He finished his scratchings and poured a small amount of sand on the parchment, to dry the ink. Pouring the sand back into a small vial, he rolled up the parchment, and put a small wax seal on it.
He handed me the small parchment scroll which contained my census information, and another which he said was not to be opened by me, but by Caius. Whoever he was... I started to move over to the food, and was cut off by Severus.
"You've got a long way to go by nightfall. No time for things like that!" He snapped at me, as he got in my way, and made it impossible for me to reach the food. "Now, escort yourself out, convict." Apius whistled a shrill note. From another door in the room, a burly man with a sour looking demeanor stepped in. "Or I shall be forced to let him escort you out." Stomach growling, I walked to the door that he pointed to, and opened it. Staring back as I went I couldn't help but feel bitter. I walked down a small, dimly lit hallway, and paused as I saw a small iron dagger, point embedded in the wall. Pierced by the tip was a note. Tearing the note from the dagger's metallic embrace, I read it.
"Hriksar, you'd better have this dagger sharper than a wolf's claw before the suns set."
I could only guess as to who wrote the note, and was genuinely sorry for the poor wretch who had to get this dagger sharpened. Pulling the dagger from the wall, I hid it in my right sleeve, and folded the note. Putting this in my other sleeve, I kept walking towards the door at the end of the hall. "Whoever it is won't miss such a trivial thing as this..."
On my way, I passed a room which I could only guess was the mess room for this particular barracks. Inside it was a table, many chairs, some candlesticks, and a few other minor articles. Judging from the large amounts of liquor, and rather offensive smelling foods upon the table, I could only be grateful that I was not a member of the legion. One thing of the room caught my eye though. There was a small chest upon the table, locked I presumed, which captured my attention.
Looking around me to make sure I wasn't being watched, I carefully took the dagger out of my sleeve. Upon reaching the chest, I tried to open it. As expected, it was locked. While I had some skill with lockpicking and such, it was small and insignificant. Still, it was something to try, so taking the dagger, inserted it into the lock. I started to nudge the tumblers back and forth, until I heard a "click."
Smiling somewhat, I opened the chest, to behold a small purse inside it. I picked up the leather bag and relished the sound of clinking coins inside it. "But wait...what if I am not out of the town by the time they come back? I'll be caught for sure..." Still, the draw of the gold and the chance that it gave me was enough persuasion, and I tied the purse off carefully and clutched it tightly in my hand.
Upon inspecting the box more closely, I saw a gleam of something else in it. I bent my head over and peered into the chest's bottom. There I found a strange ring, engraved with small bits of gold in a curious script, on a silver band. "What is a pretty thing like you doing here?" I wondered, and slipped it into the purse without a second thought.
Hearing a small noise, I jumped. I put the chest back as I found it quickly and went as quietly as I could down the hall, and out the door into the muddy streets.
I can only guess I was dreaming. There is no other way to explain it. I had been on a ship, bound south from the land of Skyrim to Vvardenfel, as punishment. For what crime, I do not know. I do not think I ever will.
Our ship had been at sea for weeks, and I had grown sick. I grew feverish upon the third week of our journey, and had lain in my hammock below deck, along with the rats and other vermin. I was told that I drifted in and out of consciousness for days, mumbling incomprehensible words.
In my dream, vision, whatever the apparition should be called, I could barely see. All that there was to see was a bloody mist. Crimson, and putrid, it hung over the scene like a cloud hanging over the land before the rain. I could not feel my body, almost as if I were detached from it. I could feel my spirit soaring, not constrained to stay bound to the earth in a physical form.
I heard a voice calling to me, a soft voice, yet possessed of a regal note that made me "Sepharoth, Nerevar reborn. Incarnate. I leave it to you to find the secret of your past, Nerevar. Restore the land of Vvardenfel to what it was, and the thread of prohpecy will spin true. Fail, and your people will live forever as slaves to the foreign nwah who plague the land's shores." I could not place where the voice was coming from, and as it faded away, I awoke with a start. "Find yourself, Nerevar..." I heard, then the voice went silent.
The start was enough to make me fall out of my hammock and collapse on the deck. I winced as I picked my hand back up and looked at a splinter embedded in my hand. Grimacing slightly, I grasped the offending bit of wood from my hand and pulled. I threw the piece away, and rubbed my palm as the blood flowed onto it. The blue/green liquid flowed freely for a small time then stopped. I slowly stood,and walked towards the door. I was met by an Imperial Guard in his uniform mail, sporting what looked, sounded and smelled to be a massive hangover. I could almost taste the illegal Skooma from his breath as he spoke. "Thuh captain wants you up on deck right away, shcum." he said, a slight slur to his words.
Grabbing a light colored shirt of homespun cloth, the only other article of clothing I possessed other than my breeches, I hastily put it on and went up into the sunlight...
The sunlight assaulted my eyes, as I went up on deck. I had not seen the sun for a month, and the brightness threatened to blind me. I shaded my eyes, and found the crew of the Imperial vessel all waiting for me to disembark. I was roughly escorted by two of the burliest members of the crew off the docking plank and onto the dock itself.
Upon disembarking, I was met there by a man in a flowing robe, befitting a scholar of the M'challa order. Were it not for his elevated station, I would have laughed. He was short and pudgy, pale skin and balding before Age should have let him. I kept this to myself, however, since I would probably be whipped had I said anything.
He bowed and I did likewise...as far as the Guar next to me would allow. "Greetings and welcome to Vvardenfel, master Sepharoth." the man said, in a voice high enough to be a child's. I wondered how he had managed not to be laughed at his entire life. "My name is Severus Apius, and I am the recorder here at the Census and Excise office."
I replied "Ah, so I am to be recorded before I am set free to go kill myself, eh?" I said, a note of scorn in my voice.
"No, you are to be recorded because of a direct order from the Emperor Uriel Septim." The little man's face looked as if it were about to fill with blood, then flush it all out in waves of self accomplishment. As if his entire life's purpose was to get a set of orders from the emperor. I could only think that his life must have been a total waste then... "The emperor requested you to be released from prison, so you should be grateful." he said, beckoning me into the office at the end of the dock.
The two guards holding me released me and went off in some unknown direction, probably to go and swill some cheap Cyrodillic whiskey, or some other inexpensive alcohol. I couldn't help but quietly chuckle at the predictability of how they acted. After a month of having to be at the beck and call of the master of the ship, they would have a sloshed shore leave before returning. Probably to a beating, but that was out of my hands now.
I ducked into the doorway of the Census and Excise office to await whatever Fate held for me there...
I went inside the small office to find a few candles lighting the room, and two chairs set up. There was a table nearby, and from it I caught the scent of delicious smelling food. I did all I could to suppress it, but eventually my stomach growled. I had been sick for the past week, and had eaten little.
The little man, Apius I guess his name was, smiled at me as I tried to contain myself. "Yes, you are to be fed before setting out." he said, a slight smirk on his face.
He sat down in one of the chairs and took a quill and some parchment from a small table to his right. "So...Sepharoth. I have some questions that I need to ask you before I let you be on your way."
Making my way over to the other chair, I cautiously let myself down onto it. It had been a long time since I had sat in a chair, and never one like this. I had never been shown this kind of opulence in my life. But then again, growing up in prison can have that effect on you. "You have your questions, I might have answers. Ask if you are going to." I said, my stomach still nagging.
"First, I'll need to know your field of study." he said, calmly starting to write.
"And that means?" I asked, having no clue as to what he meant.
"Do you plan on learning the magics of the world? Do you plan on being a member of the Legion? ...What is your field of study?"
Still a little confused, I shrugged. "I have always had a talent with physical things. Never much inclined to the magics, though they might be useful."
"Mhmmm..." Severus said, still writing with his quill. "Alright. I have written orders..." he said, between his scratchings "for you to be apprenticed to... Master Caius Cosades. He...is the master of the Blades here in Vvardenfel."
"The Blades?" I asked, eyebrow arched in confusion. "Who in Sheogorath are they?"
"The Blades are the Emperors most trusted emmisaries...spies, you might say. Incognito observers. They are how the Emperor gets his information to rule the Empire."
"And I am to be an apprentice?" I asked. "Apprentice for the Blades..." I thought. This prospect didn't seem so bad at all... "What opportunities are there for advancement?" I asked, somewhat hastily. "Is there any way for me to rise above my station?" I asked, musing somewhat.
Severus Apius looked at me with a small frown of contempt, previously unseen. "You are beyond chance of advancement, convict!" he said with a sneer of disgust. "You have only orders, which are to be obeyed." He finished his scratchings and poured a small amount of sand on the parchment, to dry the ink. Pouring the sand back into a small vial, he rolled up the parchment, and put a small wax seal on it.
He handed me the small parchment scroll which contained my census information, and another which he said was not to be opened by me, but by Caius. Whoever he was... I started to move over to the food, and was cut off by Severus.
"You've got a long way to go by nightfall. No time for things like that!" He snapped at me, as he got in my way, and made it impossible for me to reach the food. "Now, escort yourself out, convict." Apius whistled a shrill note. From another door in the room, a burly man with a sour looking demeanor stepped in. "Or I shall be forced to let him escort you out." Stomach growling, I walked to the door that he pointed to, and opened it. Staring back as I went I couldn't help but feel bitter. I walked down a small, dimly lit hallway, and paused as I saw a small iron dagger, point embedded in the wall. Pierced by the tip was a note. Tearing the note from the dagger's metallic embrace, I read it.
"Hriksar, you'd better have this dagger sharper than a wolf's claw before the suns set."
I could only guess as to who wrote the note, and was genuinely sorry for the poor wretch who had to get this dagger sharpened. Pulling the dagger from the wall, I hid it in my right sleeve, and folded the note. Putting this in my other sleeve, I kept walking towards the door at the end of the hall. "Whoever it is won't miss such a trivial thing as this..."
On my way, I passed a room which I could only guess was the mess room for this particular barracks. Inside it was a table, many chairs, some candlesticks, and a few other minor articles. Judging from the large amounts of liquor, and rather offensive smelling foods upon the table, I could only be grateful that I was not a member of the legion. One thing of the room caught my eye though. There was a small chest upon the table, locked I presumed, which captured my attention.
Looking around me to make sure I wasn't being watched, I carefully took the dagger out of my sleeve. Upon reaching the chest, I tried to open it. As expected, it was locked. While I had some skill with lockpicking and such, it was small and insignificant. Still, it was something to try, so taking the dagger, inserted it into the lock. I started to nudge the tumblers back and forth, until I heard a "click."
Smiling somewhat, I opened the chest, to behold a small purse inside it. I picked up the leather bag and relished the sound of clinking coins inside it. "But wait...what if I am not out of the town by the time they come back? I'll be caught for sure..." Still, the draw of the gold and the chance that it gave me was enough persuasion, and I tied the purse off carefully and clutched it tightly in my hand.
Upon inspecting the box more closely, I saw a gleam of something else in it. I bent my head over and peered into the chest's bottom. There I found a strange ring, engraved with small bits of gold in a curious script, on a silver band. "What is a pretty thing like you doing here?" I wondered, and slipped it into the purse without a second thought.
Hearing a small noise, I jumped. I put the chest back as I found it quickly and went as quietly as I could down the hall, and out the door into the muddy streets.