Okay, first disclaimers.. Just to be on the safe side, I don't want to be sued, I don't have money! =\
The Elder Scrolls series are owned by Bethesda Soft works, and RuneScape is owned by Jagex ltd.
Now, on with the story!!
"Sithis... He calls out to thee, Auravinc Othlin! He beckons you, and you will visit him!" A pitch-black hooded assassin softly exclaimed in a low, remorseless tone.
"! You're- - You're the D-Dark Brotherhood! HE- -!!" The man couldn't finish his sentence; he was stabbed through the heart, his lifeless old corpse collapsed to the bare, bone-chilling crackling floorboard. His tan robes splattered and engulfed with human blood. The smell, a familiar scent to the Argonian Silencer was very.. Pleasing. The bloody aroma made its journey to the lizard-man's nose; he pleasurably inhaled it and created an emotion far beyond the enjoyment of killing mercilessly.
The Argonian had dark crimson scales and shades of black, very unusual for an Argonian. He was cloaked with Shadowleather and a frightening tattoo on his neck which read: "Dark-Heart" with the Night Mother glaring behind the relentless name of his. He wielded a curved dagger; it was now sheathed in its scabbard attached to the Argonian's apparel. His way of thinking was to live, or to die.
Dark-Heart glanced at the deceased Breton's hand, it intrigued him to discover that the arm was glowing with a bright, blinding cyan color; it appeared to be magicka. He frowned, unsure of whether the human was alive, or his magicka was resisting to die just as its bearer. He stood there, thoughtless, hesitant on what to do or think.
Suddenly, the Breton carefully opened his previously-thought dead eyes and fiercely squinted toward Dark-Heart. His arm, in less than a nanosecond grabbed Dark-Heart's right arm tightly, the rest of his "dead" body remained motionless.
"Is this an illusion? Humph.. Cowardly mages.. Always use tricks and flee when possible." Dark-Heart thought, but surprisingly calm, you'd think that any ordinary commoner would freak out at the revival of dead people, but the Dark Brotherhood assassins are trained to comprehend unpredictable actions and to react accordingly. But.. This was more, one simply cannot resurrect one's self using one's own magicka, when the magicka is supposed to be gone with you... It's impossible, but, it's also paradoxical. Dark-Heart hid his shock and tried to develop a plan, but it was simply too late. The Breton released his grasp and returned to his eternal slumber.
At first nothing out of the ordinary happened. Dark-Heart was stunned, but he also guessed that this had to be an illusion, so, he was disinterested. He completed his contract, and earned the necessary bonus, so there is no use or any of his business to linger or delay any longer. Still, to some extent, this man did somewhat intrigue him, but he's dead, it's over with, end of story.
As the dark-scaled Argonian headed for the ladder to the first floor, he was abruptly forced to halt. He was unable to move, what was causing this? Dark-Heart struggled to regain control of his body, but it was no use. He tried to jerk his head to the left; no use.
"Is... Is this another illusion?" He began to panic, although panicking is frowned upon by the Dark Brotherhood, he had no choice, your average mage had either Fire, Frost, or Shock spells on his arsenal.
And at that, he found himself unconscious; even I do not know the cause of his sudden sleep.
During his unconsciousness his body glowed bright cyan just as the Breton once had, yet, the Breton lost his magicka, or, it should have been, so, who's can this be?
The Breton, Auravinc Othlin, deceased. Renowned, WAS renowned as Tamriel's most superior conjurer; surpassing Arch-Mage Traven and even the hero at the Battle of Bruma a decade ago. Although this cunning wizard was best out of the best, he didn't make it a mission to be popular as the rest, how do I know? Well... I know everything. His wizardry, he was a master of all arts, Restorative, Alterative, Destructive, Conjuration, Illusionary, you name it, he basically could perform any spell. It was to Dark-Heart's pleasure to relinquish him from existence.
Dark-Heart, attempting to rebel the power overwhelming his body, stopped glowing, whether this was the result of a successful resistance, or the failure of such, I do not know. I, on the other hand knowingly knew that he was fading, no tricks, no spells, it was reality. Eventually in a few minutes he faded into complete transparency; unable to be seen. Where did he go? That is a question to be solved later.
Meanwhile...
"Strange... Presence..." A seer commented on the vision clouding his mind.
...
30 Bennath, 169 on the continent of Gielinor laid this beautifully constructed village named 'Seer's Village.' It was peaceful, many seers rest upon the ivy gray-stoned walls, several fletchers reside here as well, it is the jack of all trees; figuratively speaking, of course. A dose of workers with their daily pick-up flax routine were present. Governed by the Seers' Council to deal with serious issues such as crimes, murder, and... Lizard-men on the roof of Camelot Castle?
True to my word there IS a certain lizard-man on the roof of Camelot Castle, many adventurers, curious workers, and elderly robed seers crowded the entrance gate to the castle, but Sir Lancelot was preventing their entry.
"Everything is under control! Please return to what you were previously doing!" As such, the horde a crowding him ignored his plead and weren't gullible enough to believe that everything was under management when Sir Pelleas was panicking.
The crowd was filled with armed mithril-plated warriors, red dragon-hided archers and blue robed wizards with that all classic pointy hat; we don't have those fashion trends on the Overside.
"Wait one second there lad!"