The Divide… Breached


The Mazken and the Auriel were created by Sheogorath to be the guardians of the distinct split in his personality, bordering at the extremes of Madness. Thus he created them to be distinctly different, each group suited to guard the realm that they were placed in. The Mazken are on the whole a subtle race, preferring to knife their enemies in the back than face them in open combat. The Auriel, by contrast were created about as subtle as the average sledge hammer. Extremely ingenious on the battlefield, and masterful tacticians, they are, however, almost always unable to think outside the box, and when faced with a new challenge, can often not overcome it. Hence, these two groups have extremely different minds which clash, often violently, when brought into close proximity.


Nerte examined Adriana's mind from as close as she dared. The great pulsing white presence dominated her senses, layer after layer of thoughts and protections. As a being within Adriana's mind she had limited power at best and, if she stayed too near, she would meld with Adriana's thoughts and would not be able to pull loose. She would have to live life trapped within this quickly disintegrating mind. Even as she watched, dark shadows began to grow around what most who understood this form of magic recognised as the soul. She spun around, searching for the intruding tendril. Time after time she thought she sensed something out of the ordinary but in reality it was nothing, merely an extension of Adriana's growing madness.

She moved in closer, and tried to make contact with glowing mass. Adriana… The thought echoed around. Surely she had heard that…

Who's that? What's going on? came back a weak thought.

Nerte… She sent an image of herself to her. You are Adriana…

Nerte… Adriana… familiar… there was a long pause after this, as though she was trying to gather what left of her thoughts Dead… too…?

No-one is dead, she sent back fiercely. You are strong… but caught in an illusion… Powerful spell – you must overthrow it yourself…

Adriana apparently caught the note of urgency in her voice. She seemed to concentrate further. Illusion?

Yes... powerful illusion… She waited to see what Adriana would think back and eventually the reply came once again.

How… What must I do?

This was possibly going to be easier than she had imagined. She just had to hope Adriana would hold the thought until she could work out a way to guide her to the illusion within her own mind. It had taken her years of practice to first pull it off and be able to recognise, and remove, an illusion from within her own mind. However, they had little choice, unless she was to abandon the Saint. She almost despaired at the task before her, with little chance of succeeding before her. The first step is realising it is an illusion – you must then force yourself to disbelieve it… then you must step backwards into your own mind, and force the illusion to show itself to you – you will sense it as a shard within your mind, something out of place… I see it as a black, if that helps you any… Then you must rip it out.

Nerte realised that this was a poor explanation and that if Adriana could follow it, it would be a miracle.She waited, as Adriana apparently tried this and then fell back into a state of non-consciousness like that she had been in when Nerte had arrived. Adriana? She thought to her.

Who… dead…? Came back the unsteady response.

In frustration Nerte thrust herself from Adriana's mind and fell backwards on the cold stone of the third chamber, jarring her partially healed arm, the bond between her and the Saint severed. The purplish stand disintegrated into pale mist, which dispersed across the room. She looked up at Adriana and realised that nothing she, nor the Saint could do would work… at least nothing so subtle. Nerte thrust her good hand forwards almost violently and released her frustration into the destruction spell she dispersed against her. Blue sparks flew from her fingers and writhed around Adriana's body. Adriana was shocked backwards from her upright position in the centre of the room and a purplish charge seemed to build around her. The faint traces of the artificial bond between them re-formed as it was fed with energy and the spell surged back along it. It slammed into Nerte, a mix of a pink and blue surge, and flung her across the stone room, in the opposite direction. She managed to pull herself upright, her hand finding purchase around the damp arm of one of the corpses littered around the room. As soon as she was upright she released her grip on this gristly handhold and once again looked across the room. She sighed in relief, as the Saint's golden cat's eyes glared back at her. And then she collapsed.


Adriana glared across the room and groaned in annoyance as the Mazken collapsed. What had happened though…? Suddenly her memory of the past half ira returned and she realised what had occurred. The illusion that had trapped her had been broken by a lightning spell which Nerte had cast against her. A lightning spell. And Nerte had received a large blast of it, as Adriana herself was almost completely immune to this form of magic and, on occasions, she had even reflected such magic. This was why she could master such an incredibly powerful lightning spell… One that would harm most who were trying to use it. Regardless, the spell had apparently reflected and Nerte had taken a fair percentage of the blast. Adriana slowly and stiffly stood, and made her way over to Nerte. She shook her good shoulder roughly and growled lowly when she did not wake. She looked around her in the dark. "Illuminatum!" she shouted into the darkness. Seemingly beaten by this simple word the darkness withdrew into the deep corners of the room and then, as the light brightened further, the shadows fled even from these corners. She bent over the Seducer and lifted her up, over her shoulders and started to walk from the room. The Seducer weighed so little; Adriana could scarcely even feel the extra weight upon her shoulders. She strode forwards, up the staircase and into a dead end. She stepped forwards one step further to glare around this dead end.

And then the floor flared up around her in bright light, the floor in the shape of an evil looking face, half grinning and half crying out in despair.

The light around her dimmed only again as the teleport pad finished its work, and she found herself looking at a new room. Torchlight flickered around the walls and, even as she looked on, shadows moved around the corner. She slung Nerte from her back onto the ground and drew her sword. Her sword found its way to her hand and, out of its sheath, the cold steel gleaming in the torchlight. She almost laughed when she realised that the shadow was just Nerte's shadow, casting across the room. She stepped around the corner and saw to her surprise that they were back at the door through which they had entered. She pulled lightly on the door and it creaked open. Rain splashed down, tinkling lightly on her steel boots. She grimaced as something tugged at the corner of her mind… something that hadn't been there before. She shrugged and realised that it was most likely simply a side effect of the powerful illusion spell that had caught her in its cold clutches. She turned back to Nerte, lying on the teleport pad. She looked around, and then fixed her gaze on the ground. Flamenurelt, she thought, and red flame burst from her fingers and hit the ground. Like liquid mercury the magical flames bunched up around the one point on the floor and continued to burn, despite the obvious lack of wood. She pulled Nerte roughly over to the flames, to its all encompassing warmth. Her blinding light dimmed. And she waited.