I have just given chapters 1 and 2 a re-vamp, so they arent so crummy anymore.

Arcana Macabre

Education Through Retribution

A Dunmer dressed in casual high class clothing sits in the middle of the guild symbol on the floor of the Arch-Mage' residence, surrounded by alchemy apparel set out accordingly around his crossed legs. The test subject; a Breton lying stiff with a bloated face, distorting any natural features, is spralled out before him. The content Dunmer finishes his translucent creation with a vaporous emanation of steam and turns his head to grin warmly at the immobile body laid out before him, "This should reduce the swelling, but you'll feel some intended side effects". The Dunmer pulls out a delicate but sharp blade, coats it with the thin, potent fluid and without hesitation presses it mercilessly under the subjects skin.

The Bretons face begins to deflate, gurgled screams of terror and agony wheezing up his constricted throat passage slowly turn back to humanly cries. The Breton gains a surge of strength and uses it to turn his head in the direction of his experimenter, they exchange eye contact for a silent moment before the man stops breathing as if to concentrate, his facial expressions contort, the veins and tendons in his neck protrude from his flesh, revealing to the Dunmer the successful effects of his concoction. The pulsing Breton grows red and his disrespondant body begins trembling with the futile attempts to brace through the pain, as he thrusts his chin towards the roof, the presence of the Dunmer's partner observing from a dark corner of the Arch-Mages quarters is revealed to him, 'Dannyl!' is the one word that flashes through his mind. The silent observer stares back at the subject disregardingly.

"Oh, from the look in your eyes you appear to be surprised of my presence" Dannyl says before turning to the Dunmer. "What does the Brugmansia do once you've refined it with the Monkshood?" He questions.

"I assume your asking what the individual effects of the said ingredients are, rather than the over-all brew?" inquires the Dunmer

"Uh, yeah just the two"

The Breton pushes his teeth together, trying to understand the alchemically experienced exchange of words between the two cruel intellectuals. His teeth grind harder and harder until they split and crack into his bleeding gums.

"-infects the blood cells with Heamofyre, causing a sensation of intense burning from the inside, and also in fact making him incredibly flammable, if my hypothesis is indeed correct"

"Your talking like one of the scholars again Mor'Tar" Dannyl laughs.

"I know, I seem to get carried away in my thoughts, listening to them speak 'a matter of factly' to each other tends to rub-off on me"

Dannyl looks back down at the Breton.

"We usually find subjects in better places, but your an exception, Fergun, this is your punishment for spreading the rumours about us" Nodding his head towards Mor'Tar

The Breton struggles with an attempt to deny the accusation.

"What's the point in denying when I read it straight from your thoughts" Mor'Tar says with feigned puzzlement.

"We never did share an amiable relationship did we Fergun, in fact, I seem to remember your disdain towards Mor'Tar when he was a mere novice, you didn't expect he'd rise to become the Arch-Mage now did you?"

Fergun' s body ceases trembling and the air slowly exits his lungs, red fills the white of his eyes, produced from popped blood-vessels. His skin begins to darken and an aroma of burning flesh fills the room. Smoke rises from the blackening skin and the faint sound of sizzling rings in Mor'Tar's ears. Fergun' s skin bubbles with heat, and splits to reveal glowing hot flesh beneath, his eyes shrivel in his sockets and recess into his skull. Small flickers of fire slowly erect from the splits in his skin.

"Damn, i was planning on restorating him before he died" Mor'Tar hisses, nulling the flames.

"Is he dead?"

"Yeah, looks like we'll need a new subject" Mor'Tar sighs casually.

"C'mon it's not a long walk to the Marie Elena, besides we haven't taken a stroll through the City in ages"

Mor'Tar pushes the door open to reveal a room containing many people; bruised and gaunt, bound by magic to the floor. The skeletal forms look up at the pair. Their dilapidated bodies easily influenced by the sway of the ship.

"Go on." says Mor'Tar.

"What?"

"It's your turn to pick."

Dannyl smiles then turns his head towards the pale crowd.

I sit here among the others, watching my...our, capturer's predatory glare traverse from prisoner to prisoner. My heart-beat quickens as the taller one - the one who led me here - glances at me, he looks away dismissively, then my fear ascends as the other - the one with the desicion of who is the next victim - looks at me meaningfully.

"This one" he says.

"Matthias Draconis" The other states, then adds "I spose we should; considering he's meant to be dead anyways"

The man dressed in mages robes points at me. "You, come."

I remain against the wall in fetal position, fearfully defying his inexperienced command.

The immaculately dressed man turns his head towards me, his hard eyes dominate my very soul.

"Matthias" He says calmly, then sternly adds; "You have been summoned, now stand"

I find myself rising immediately, almost trusting the gentleness of his voice.

"Come with us Matthias, we'll take you to your family"

I slowly trail behind him, believing his promise, but knowing it's a lie.