Disclaimer: I don't own Morrowind or any characters or ideas from the
Bethesda games. I have simply used ideas and places to create my own story.
Some characters in this story have been completely made up and any
resemblance to anyone in real life is bloody amazing as I didn't know there
were orcs and elves out there. Ive also taken some liberties with the
Tamriel world, so R&R and tell me what you think. Enjoy.
Keep the reviews coming. Thanks to Volendrung & Creeper for your help and ideas.
CHPT 2: Corruption
Kirathe instinctively ducked as he heard the loud 'whoosh' of a large object flying through the air above his head. Luien had thrown the large glass pitcher of water at the oncoming intruders. It served little but to temporarily slow the attackers as one cloaked figure simply batted it away with his arm. The pitcher smashed spilling water over the assailant but the glass did no damage.
Sarynia took this pause to hastily cast her fear spell. In that instant the figure in the daedric armour had lifted his arm and began to mutter.
Sarynia cried out as she was suddenly propelled backwards through the air by an unseen force. The leader had somehow used Sarynia's energy to counter her spell and turn it into a physical attack. The young mage crashed into the shelves behind the bar, sending liquid and smashed pottery over the floor. She landed in a heap on the ground; covered in drink, bleeding and unconscious.
Instantly, one of the advancing figures was propelled quickly off its feet and thrown sideways by a large black arrow in the neck. The figure running at his side abruptly came to a halt and looked at his fallen friend. He turned his cowled head in the direction from where the arrow came.
The assailant saw a woman near the wall, reaching back into her quiver to load another black arrow into her ebony battlebow. It was then that the man wielding the dai-katana cleaved the figure's head from his shoulders.
The other two figures in black had advanced on the stunned town guards. A flurry of quick movements saw the pair quickly dispatch the guards. Slashes to throats and other major arteries had thrown blood over the floor and nearby furniture. The two cloaked attackers spied their fallen comrades near the bar and rushed to dispatch the man and woman responsible for killing them.
One figure closed upon the man with the dai-katana. The man readied to swing, knowing that the smaller twin daggers the figure carried would be more effective at close fighting.
The other dark figure advanced upon the woman with the battlebow. She had readied her next arrow and lined up the throat of her adversary. As she let fly, the figure somehow managed to swat the arrow with his dagger mid- flight. In doing so he had deflected the arrow harmlessly away, momentarily saving himself, but had lost his only dagger in the process.
He jumped towards the woman with arms outstretched, ready to strangle her.
A furious combination of slashes and thrusts from the dai-katana managed to keep the assailant a long-swords length from the swordsman. The robed figure deftly parried with his daggers, deflecting the deadly longsword at every stroke. Quickly his opponent tired; the sword strokes becoming slower and his stance lower.
One over stretched thrust from the dai-katana saw the attacker jump in close, batting the sword away with one dagger, and pushing the other dagger into the man's breast all the way to the hilt.
The dai-katana fell from the man's hand. He slumped to the ground and blood poured from his mouth as his lungs filled.
The attacker turned to find his next victim. A large two-bladed war-axe flew across the room. Spinning end over end, the war-axe took the attacker in the chest, splitting his ribcage. Momentum carried the man and weapon into the wall several feet behind him.
At that instance the small Bosmer drew a garrotte wire and jumped on the last black-cloaked figure. The figure had engaged the woman hand to hand, her weapon of choice proving useless in close quarter combat. The sheer size and strength of the attacker overwhelmed the woman, choking her.
The surprise attack worked. The cloaked figure released the woman. She sat and coughed; swallowing precious air as the small Bosmer cut his deadly wire into the attackers soft throat.
In a moment the large cloaked figure slumped to the ground dead, his face purple and blood pouring from his snared throat.
All this time, Kirathe had been unable to take his eyes from the figure in daedric armour. They had locked gaze when the fighting began, and Kirathe's mind was reeling from the piercing stare.
When the fighting had stopped and everyone in the room had taken account of their surroundings, the figure in armour finally released Kirathe from his stare and looked around.
Blood covered walls, floors, tables and people. The smell of fresh killing hung heavy in the room as people gasped for breath and waited expectantly at what the figure would do next.
Daedric runes painted on the armour glowed as the figure advanced slowly upon Kirathe. He trudged slowly and quietly down the rubble and onto the wooden floor. At least seven feet tall, the figure stopped several feet away from Kirathe as the ensemble of survivors readied weapons.
The terrible mask scanned the crowd slowly, it's gaze piercing into each person. When finally it looked once more upon Kirathe, the figure began to laugh a deep, slow, and whispering laugh. Its quiet voice seemed to shake the room as it spoke one word, "Soon."
The figure then vanished in a cloud of miasmic, putrid smoke.
**********
Work on fixing the sidewall of the Lucky Lockup was taking a long time. Between the chaos caused by an attack on the city and looters raiding the decimated pub at night, an impromptu curfew was enforced upon the city. Guards were strengthened at entrances to the city and on patrol, and even the Fighters Guild was hired by the Hlaalu House to ensure that a lawful peace was maintained.
The Mages guild was at the forefront of investigations, having detected that the initial explosion was of arcane origins.
Inside the Mages Guild all the survivors from the pub were being held for questioning by both Guild members and the Hlaalu council elite.
Sarynia had regained consciousness three days after the attack. She was gaunt and pale from malnutrition and was attended at every moment by acolytes, and by an ever present and extremely worried Kirathe.
After the daedric-clad figure had vanished Kirathe had felt a sense of shame and anger. He attributed his feelings to having not been able to protect Sarynia, and return the favour that she had given him, when they had first met in Seyda Neen.
To his surprise and horror, Kirathe also discovered felt a sense of loss and sadness once the evil figure had gone. These feeling were kept buried inside, assuming the confusion of the moment had played with his senses.
He looked around the guildhall. In Balmora, the Mages Guild looked to be a small building with an equally small second story. Entering the building a set of stairs led underground to a much larger room sectioned off into various areas. A pedestal and series of benches were sectioned off making an area used for classes, or lore reading. There was a section of enclosed Bunk beds in the opposite corner. In the other corners were bookshelves, tables and chairs and pillows for quiet relaxing and contemplation.
A separate room adjoined the underground area and contained a small alchemy lab and a stone transportation stage, for use when travelling between guild across Morrowind.
It was from this room an aged Kharjiit woman entered, carrying a number of small vials on a tray and heading for a large table. Once her tray was safely on the table she turned to a Hlaalu guard who was busy writing on a parchment in the centre of the room.
"Ahhhhrrrgh Serraghh!" She purred, "Here is morrre of my ressstore health potionsss"
"Our thanks to you Karijaa, I'll distribute these to those in need. I think rest will suffice for most now that your magic has prevented many fatalities."
The elderly Khajiit bowed and sauntered off, slow, but eager to help anyone she may.
In the section of the building dominated by rows of chairs facing a pedestal, members of the guild were in conference with the survivors of the Lucky Lockup. Presiding over the meeting was a stern young Hlaalu house member. Wearing a green robe and fine boots, he was busy writing down notes from those gathered.
He stopped writing a moment and addressed the crowd.
"Ok, that seems to cover just about everything. I'm sorry to say the curfew wont be lifted for a while, and I'm going to have to ask you to stay in Balmora for a few more days at least - just until we get this mess sorted."
A few groans and sighs emerged from the small crowd but everyone remained silent until the house member gathered up his parchments and writing tools, nodded respectfully to the assembly and departed.
Bendar turned and looked at the gathered survivors.
"Well, I s'pose now's as good as time as any to get something to eat?" he addressed no one in particular.
Kirathe looked up from where he was holding Sarynia. He was very reluctant to leave her, but as she seemed to enjoy his comfort and closeness, he didn't think it was a problem.
"That's a good idea." Looking back down at Sarynia's pale face he added, "You should definitely do anything to get your strength up."
Sarynia smiled and looked up. Then slowly sat up straight, disentangling herself from Kirathe's arm.
"I'm stronger than I look" she said stretching.
"That we all realise Sarynia." Said Luien from a nearby chair. "I don't reckon I could have got back up from being thrown across the room!"
"Well, I got lucky"
"I think we all did" answered Zaareth. The small thief said looking bored. "I lost all my money and the stuff Bendar and I found on those shipwrecks." "Oh, you poor thing!" hissed the mysterious woman who fought in the bar with them. Since the ordeal, they had been 'asked' to stay inside the Balmora mages guild, but guards had blocked the exits and whenever it was obvious someone was trying to leave, had quickly stood fast and asked for identification papers.
She quickly stood up and left the seated area. On the way out she gave the young Bosmer thief an icy stare. During the questioning Navireth had volunteered very little information, stating unless she was convicted of a crime they had no rights to question her presence.
Navireth walked up to the nearest guard and tapped him roughly on his shoulder.
The guard flinched and turned to look at the woman. Upon seeing whom it was he rolled his eyes and stood up straight to give her his full attention, "What is it you want now?"
"My weapons!"
"Fine." The guard snapped his fingers and a lesser ranking guard immediately jumped to serve.
"Get this woman her weapons..." he looked at Navireth to fill in his lack of knowledge about which weapon was hers.
"My battlebow and quiver and the dai-katana"
"Both yours?"
"No, the sword is my dead-partner, and since he has a ten inch blade inside his chest I didn't think he'd mind if I took his possessions." She said icily.
"Well, I think I'll have to find out whether you can do that or not. I'll just..."
"While you're there, get his other possessions. I'm sure the Morag Tong would appreciate having its property returned!"
At this the guard jumped and anybody that was nearby turned to see who spoke the name of the infamous guild of assassins.
Navireth crossed her arms and glared. The guard swallowed and nodded at the younger guard, who ran off to fetch the items.
Navireth then bowed her head. She managed to keep her identity as a member of the assassins' guild a secret for days, ignoring questions, and making people uncomfortable with harsh stares. The stress of the loss of her partner, and three days of waiting had finally gotten to her though, and the loud admission was a result. She massaged her forehead with her hand and clenched her eyes.
Her eyes were stinging and she was getting flushed. She would not, however, allow these people to see her cry. Before the guard returned with her weapons she turned and walked away, hoping to find a secluded area of Balmora to let these feelings pass.
She could return for the weapons later. Right now she needed to mourn her little brother.
--------------------
The entire room had seen the exchange, yet it was Luien that spoke what they were all feeling,
"An assassin! Good grief, she was drinking in my pub!"
"Don't be naive friend Luien, assassin is a legitimate job, even if they are disliked. You've probably had hundreds drink at your pub." Laughed the big Nord.
Luien nodded as he thought about it, then looked at the tall Nord.
"You think that other assassin was someone special?"
"Like a lover?" chimed in Sarynia.
"Possibly." Agreed Luien, "I wasn't the only one to see her nearly burst into tears then I take it?"
"No, I saw it too, she called him a partner." Said Kirathe, "...and you were worried about your gold!" Kirathe said pointedly, looking directly at Zaareth.
The young Bosmer had the good grace to look ashamed.
Talk turned to the fight; the group had gone over every detail they could remember. The bodies of those killed had been kept under guard by the city, but an investigating Hlaalu lord had removed one of the jagged short blades and it now sat on a small table near the group.
Once more Kirathe felt Sarynia's hand take hold of his. He looked down at her face, and suddenly became very aware of her presence. Sarynia had taken an almost childlike attitude. Kirathe realised that the events of the past week could affect someone, but the more Sarynia needed his closeness, the more he disliked it.
Sarynia was far from unattractive, but she was not Dunmer, and even though Kirathe owed her a lot, and wanted to protect her, he didn't think it was necessary to give her the attention she so obviously wanted.
Kirathe released her hand and stood up. With no other valid excuse presenting itself he walked towards the small table, seemingly intent on examining the short blade.
A few of those assembled watched him take up the blade and closely examine it, but others had done this before him, so no one thought it strange. Everyone went back to their discussions.
No one noticed that Kirathe had begun to sweat and his grip on the sword was causing his knuckles to turn white.
He had lifted up the blade and immediately the room around him had filled with a white fog. All sounds had dulled, as though he was listening underwater, and soon the only thing Kirathe could see was the blade.
The blade began to get cold; burning his hand, but he found he could not move let alone release the blade. His grip became tighter and he heard a faint whispering; almost a mocking laughter. He felt rather than heard his name being called; it was like an internal tugging.
The room became warmer and Kirathe began to relax. The blade was still painfully cold, but Kirathe found it felt comfortable. He sensed that the blade was missing something, suddenly a body materialised in front of him.
The body was that of a young Imperial girl, maybe ten years old. She was naked, bound and gagged and seemed to be resting on a stone altar. She fixed Kirathe with a look of drug induced calm while Kirathe found his arm lifting and turning the ice cold blade so the point faced down.
The blade then slowly moved towards the girl's naked stomach. Unable to do anything but watch, Kirathe saw the blade pierce her flesh and push deep inside her body. The girl spasmed as blood leaked out around the blade, yet she still smiled.
The short sword then began a rhythmic sawing as Kirathe started to disembowel the young sacrifice.
Blood poured down the sides of the stone slab to fall at Kirathe's feet. It covered the blade entirely and also his arm up to the shoulder. Suddenly Kirathe realised the blade was no longer cold, but a soothing warm. He knew it was the girl's blood feeding the heat into the blade, and Kirathe somehow knew it felt right.
He smiled when the light in the girl's eyes finally went out. Blood spewed from her mouth as she quietly smiled at her killer.
The Balmora mages guild then suddenly returned and Kirathe was standing holding the sword.
He dropped the blade, which crashed loudly on the ground. A number of people jumped at the noise and the assembled group quickly turned, startled at the unexpected movement.
Bendar the Nord and Luien came to their feet as Kirathe fell backwards and crawled away from the short sword. Unable to take his eyes from the blade, Kirathe turned white as he remembered the details of the horrific vision. Worst, he remembered his feeling of joy and contentment as he ended the life of the young girl. Kirathe rolled over onto his hands and knees and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor.
At the time, the assembled groups were on their feet, some with looks of astonishment, some with confusion. A couple of guild members had ventured over to see the commotion and disgust was written on a few faces.
"What's wrong lad?!" said Bendar loudly. He moved over cautiously and touched Kirathe on the shoulder.
Kirathe knocked his hand off without looking as he sat on his knees, spitting to clear his mouth.
"Leave me be!"
The group looked to one another for some clue as to what they had witnessed.
A small and very elderly Altmer man hobbled into the circle. He looked at the shivering Kirathe for a moment before speaking.
"He's tainted."
The group looked at the small man. Sarynia gasped as she recognised the speaker and came to her feet, "Grandmaster?" she inquired.
The old man's eyes never left Kirathe. He ignored the rest of the people but shook his head slightly, "Did you enjoy it?" he asked Kirathe sadly.
Kirathe's shivering paused for a few moments. Everyone watched him slowly turn his head in the direction of the Grandmaster of the Mages Guild.
"Yes" he hissed quietly.
Not a few in the room gasped in shock. Kirathe had begun to cry, but the tears that were falling were of dark blood.
"Get him to his feet!" the old man ordered.
Kirathe groaned as Bendar and Zaareth each grabbed one of his armed and gently, but forcefully pulled him up to stand on his feet. The Nord and the Bosmer remained at his sides, making sure he didn't fall. Each looked equally worried at what was happening.
Sarynia's hand came to her cheek as she saw the dark stains on Kirathe where the blood had trickled down his face. The blood seemed to have stopped flowing, yet he still seemed weak enough to need support from the Nord and the Bosmer.
One of the first things Sarynia had noticed when she saved Kirathe from the drunken Orc in Seyda Neen was that he had some dark black marks on the back of his neck. The mark was difficult to see in most lights because Kirathe's skin was the dark blue-grey native to Dunmer. Sometimes however, this mark was instantly recognisable as a series of runes, looking as much a tattoo as anything else.
Sarynia had asked Kirathe about the runes on their journey to Balmora. Kirathe had remarked that he had them as long as he remembered, but he didn't put them there. He didn't know what the runes were, but didn't mind them.
"Turn him around," said the Grandmaster.
The two friends shuffled Kirathe around until he was facing in the opposite direction of the old man. The Grandmaster sighed, and his lips became taught. Sarynia had mentioned in passing to a college that the initial reason for her bringing him to the guild was to investigate the runes. Somehow the Grandmaster of the Mages Guild had found out, and came to investigate personally.
The reason was abundantly clear.
Kirathe's runes were moving in his skin, changing into different patterns.
Keep the reviews coming. Thanks to Volendrung & Creeper for your help and ideas.
CHPT 2: Corruption
Kirathe instinctively ducked as he heard the loud 'whoosh' of a large object flying through the air above his head. Luien had thrown the large glass pitcher of water at the oncoming intruders. It served little but to temporarily slow the attackers as one cloaked figure simply batted it away with his arm. The pitcher smashed spilling water over the assailant but the glass did no damage.
Sarynia took this pause to hastily cast her fear spell. In that instant the figure in the daedric armour had lifted his arm and began to mutter.
Sarynia cried out as she was suddenly propelled backwards through the air by an unseen force. The leader had somehow used Sarynia's energy to counter her spell and turn it into a physical attack. The young mage crashed into the shelves behind the bar, sending liquid and smashed pottery over the floor. She landed in a heap on the ground; covered in drink, bleeding and unconscious.
Instantly, one of the advancing figures was propelled quickly off its feet and thrown sideways by a large black arrow in the neck. The figure running at his side abruptly came to a halt and looked at his fallen friend. He turned his cowled head in the direction from where the arrow came.
The assailant saw a woman near the wall, reaching back into her quiver to load another black arrow into her ebony battlebow. It was then that the man wielding the dai-katana cleaved the figure's head from his shoulders.
The other two figures in black had advanced on the stunned town guards. A flurry of quick movements saw the pair quickly dispatch the guards. Slashes to throats and other major arteries had thrown blood over the floor and nearby furniture. The two cloaked attackers spied their fallen comrades near the bar and rushed to dispatch the man and woman responsible for killing them.
One figure closed upon the man with the dai-katana. The man readied to swing, knowing that the smaller twin daggers the figure carried would be more effective at close fighting.
The other dark figure advanced upon the woman with the battlebow. She had readied her next arrow and lined up the throat of her adversary. As she let fly, the figure somehow managed to swat the arrow with his dagger mid- flight. In doing so he had deflected the arrow harmlessly away, momentarily saving himself, but had lost his only dagger in the process.
He jumped towards the woman with arms outstretched, ready to strangle her.
A furious combination of slashes and thrusts from the dai-katana managed to keep the assailant a long-swords length from the swordsman. The robed figure deftly parried with his daggers, deflecting the deadly longsword at every stroke. Quickly his opponent tired; the sword strokes becoming slower and his stance lower.
One over stretched thrust from the dai-katana saw the attacker jump in close, batting the sword away with one dagger, and pushing the other dagger into the man's breast all the way to the hilt.
The dai-katana fell from the man's hand. He slumped to the ground and blood poured from his mouth as his lungs filled.
The attacker turned to find his next victim. A large two-bladed war-axe flew across the room. Spinning end over end, the war-axe took the attacker in the chest, splitting his ribcage. Momentum carried the man and weapon into the wall several feet behind him.
At that instance the small Bosmer drew a garrotte wire and jumped on the last black-cloaked figure. The figure had engaged the woman hand to hand, her weapon of choice proving useless in close quarter combat. The sheer size and strength of the attacker overwhelmed the woman, choking her.
The surprise attack worked. The cloaked figure released the woman. She sat and coughed; swallowing precious air as the small Bosmer cut his deadly wire into the attackers soft throat.
In a moment the large cloaked figure slumped to the ground dead, his face purple and blood pouring from his snared throat.
All this time, Kirathe had been unable to take his eyes from the figure in daedric armour. They had locked gaze when the fighting began, and Kirathe's mind was reeling from the piercing stare.
When the fighting had stopped and everyone in the room had taken account of their surroundings, the figure in armour finally released Kirathe from his stare and looked around.
Blood covered walls, floors, tables and people. The smell of fresh killing hung heavy in the room as people gasped for breath and waited expectantly at what the figure would do next.
Daedric runes painted on the armour glowed as the figure advanced slowly upon Kirathe. He trudged slowly and quietly down the rubble and onto the wooden floor. At least seven feet tall, the figure stopped several feet away from Kirathe as the ensemble of survivors readied weapons.
The terrible mask scanned the crowd slowly, it's gaze piercing into each person. When finally it looked once more upon Kirathe, the figure began to laugh a deep, slow, and whispering laugh. Its quiet voice seemed to shake the room as it spoke one word, "Soon."
The figure then vanished in a cloud of miasmic, putrid smoke.
**********
Work on fixing the sidewall of the Lucky Lockup was taking a long time. Between the chaos caused by an attack on the city and looters raiding the decimated pub at night, an impromptu curfew was enforced upon the city. Guards were strengthened at entrances to the city and on patrol, and even the Fighters Guild was hired by the Hlaalu House to ensure that a lawful peace was maintained.
The Mages guild was at the forefront of investigations, having detected that the initial explosion was of arcane origins.
Inside the Mages Guild all the survivors from the pub were being held for questioning by both Guild members and the Hlaalu council elite.
Sarynia had regained consciousness three days after the attack. She was gaunt and pale from malnutrition and was attended at every moment by acolytes, and by an ever present and extremely worried Kirathe.
After the daedric-clad figure had vanished Kirathe had felt a sense of shame and anger. He attributed his feelings to having not been able to protect Sarynia, and return the favour that she had given him, when they had first met in Seyda Neen.
To his surprise and horror, Kirathe also discovered felt a sense of loss and sadness once the evil figure had gone. These feeling were kept buried inside, assuming the confusion of the moment had played with his senses.
He looked around the guildhall. In Balmora, the Mages Guild looked to be a small building with an equally small second story. Entering the building a set of stairs led underground to a much larger room sectioned off into various areas. A pedestal and series of benches were sectioned off making an area used for classes, or lore reading. There was a section of enclosed Bunk beds in the opposite corner. In the other corners were bookshelves, tables and chairs and pillows for quiet relaxing and contemplation.
A separate room adjoined the underground area and contained a small alchemy lab and a stone transportation stage, for use when travelling between guild across Morrowind.
It was from this room an aged Kharjiit woman entered, carrying a number of small vials on a tray and heading for a large table. Once her tray was safely on the table she turned to a Hlaalu guard who was busy writing on a parchment in the centre of the room.
"Ahhhhrrrgh Serraghh!" She purred, "Here is morrre of my ressstore health potionsss"
"Our thanks to you Karijaa, I'll distribute these to those in need. I think rest will suffice for most now that your magic has prevented many fatalities."
The elderly Khajiit bowed and sauntered off, slow, but eager to help anyone she may.
In the section of the building dominated by rows of chairs facing a pedestal, members of the guild were in conference with the survivors of the Lucky Lockup. Presiding over the meeting was a stern young Hlaalu house member. Wearing a green robe and fine boots, he was busy writing down notes from those gathered.
He stopped writing a moment and addressed the crowd.
"Ok, that seems to cover just about everything. I'm sorry to say the curfew wont be lifted for a while, and I'm going to have to ask you to stay in Balmora for a few more days at least - just until we get this mess sorted."
A few groans and sighs emerged from the small crowd but everyone remained silent until the house member gathered up his parchments and writing tools, nodded respectfully to the assembly and departed.
Bendar turned and looked at the gathered survivors.
"Well, I s'pose now's as good as time as any to get something to eat?" he addressed no one in particular.
Kirathe looked up from where he was holding Sarynia. He was very reluctant to leave her, but as she seemed to enjoy his comfort and closeness, he didn't think it was a problem.
"That's a good idea." Looking back down at Sarynia's pale face he added, "You should definitely do anything to get your strength up."
Sarynia smiled and looked up. Then slowly sat up straight, disentangling herself from Kirathe's arm.
"I'm stronger than I look" she said stretching.
"That we all realise Sarynia." Said Luien from a nearby chair. "I don't reckon I could have got back up from being thrown across the room!"
"Well, I got lucky"
"I think we all did" answered Zaareth. The small thief said looking bored. "I lost all my money and the stuff Bendar and I found on those shipwrecks." "Oh, you poor thing!" hissed the mysterious woman who fought in the bar with them. Since the ordeal, they had been 'asked' to stay inside the Balmora mages guild, but guards had blocked the exits and whenever it was obvious someone was trying to leave, had quickly stood fast and asked for identification papers.
She quickly stood up and left the seated area. On the way out she gave the young Bosmer thief an icy stare. During the questioning Navireth had volunteered very little information, stating unless she was convicted of a crime they had no rights to question her presence.
Navireth walked up to the nearest guard and tapped him roughly on his shoulder.
The guard flinched and turned to look at the woman. Upon seeing whom it was he rolled his eyes and stood up straight to give her his full attention, "What is it you want now?"
"My weapons!"
"Fine." The guard snapped his fingers and a lesser ranking guard immediately jumped to serve.
"Get this woman her weapons..." he looked at Navireth to fill in his lack of knowledge about which weapon was hers.
"My battlebow and quiver and the dai-katana"
"Both yours?"
"No, the sword is my dead-partner, and since he has a ten inch blade inside his chest I didn't think he'd mind if I took his possessions." She said icily.
"Well, I think I'll have to find out whether you can do that or not. I'll just..."
"While you're there, get his other possessions. I'm sure the Morag Tong would appreciate having its property returned!"
At this the guard jumped and anybody that was nearby turned to see who spoke the name of the infamous guild of assassins.
Navireth crossed her arms and glared. The guard swallowed and nodded at the younger guard, who ran off to fetch the items.
Navireth then bowed her head. She managed to keep her identity as a member of the assassins' guild a secret for days, ignoring questions, and making people uncomfortable with harsh stares. The stress of the loss of her partner, and three days of waiting had finally gotten to her though, and the loud admission was a result. She massaged her forehead with her hand and clenched her eyes.
Her eyes were stinging and she was getting flushed. She would not, however, allow these people to see her cry. Before the guard returned with her weapons she turned and walked away, hoping to find a secluded area of Balmora to let these feelings pass.
She could return for the weapons later. Right now she needed to mourn her little brother.
--------------------
The entire room had seen the exchange, yet it was Luien that spoke what they were all feeling,
"An assassin! Good grief, she was drinking in my pub!"
"Don't be naive friend Luien, assassin is a legitimate job, even if they are disliked. You've probably had hundreds drink at your pub." Laughed the big Nord.
Luien nodded as he thought about it, then looked at the tall Nord.
"You think that other assassin was someone special?"
"Like a lover?" chimed in Sarynia.
"Possibly." Agreed Luien, "I wasn't the only one to see her nearly burst into tears then I take it?"
"No, I saw it too, she called him a partner." Said Kirathe, "...and you were worried about your gold!" Kirathe said pointedly, looking directly at Zaareth.
The young Bosmer had the good grace to look ashamed.
Talk turned to the fight; the group had gone over every detail they could remember. The bodies of those killed had been kept under guard by the city, but an investigating Hlaalu lord had removed one of the jagged short blades and it now sat on a small table near the group.
Once more Kirathe felt Sarynia's hand take hold of his. He looked down at her face, and suddenly became very aware of her presence. Sarynia had taken an almost childlike attitude. Kirathe realised that the events of the past week could affect someone, but the more Sarynia needed his closeness, the more he disliked it.
Sarynia was far from unattractive, but she was not Dunmer, and even though Kirathe owed her a lot, and wanted to protect her, he didn't think it was necessary to give her the attention she so obviously wanted.
Kirathe released her hand and stood up. With no other valid excuse presenting itself he walked towards the small table, seemingly intent on examining the short blade.
A few of those assembled watched him take up the blade and closely examine it, but others had done this before him, so no one thought it strange. Everyone went back to their discussions.
No one noticed that Kirathe had begun to sweat and his grip on the sword was causing his knuckles to turn white.
He had lifted up the blade and immediately the room around him had filled with a white fog. All sounds had dulled, as though he was listening underwater, and soon the only thing Kirathe could see was the blade.
The blade began to get cold; burning his hand, but he found he could not move let alone release the blade. His grip became tighter and he heard a faint whispering; almost a mocking laughter. He felt rather than heard his name being called; it was like an internal tugging.
The room became warmer and Kirathe began to relax. The blade was still painfully cold, but Kirathe found it felt comfortable. He sensed that the blade was missing something, suddenly a body materialised in front of him.
The body was that of a young Imperial girl, maybe ten years old. She was naked, bound and gagged and seemed to be resting on a stone altar. She fixed Kirathe with a look of drug induced calm while Kirathe found his arm lifting and turning the ice cold blade so the point faced down.
The blade then slowly moved towards the girl's naked stomach. Unable to do anything but watch, Kirathe saw the blade pierce her flesh and push deep inside her body. The girl spasmed as blood leaked out around the blade, yet she still smiled.
The short sword then began a rhythmic sawing as Kirathe started to disembowel the young sacrifice.
Blood poured down the sides of the stone slab to fall at Kirathe's feet. It covered the blade entirely and also his arm up to the shoulder. Suddenly Kirathe realised the blade was no longer cold, but a soothing warm. He knew it was the girl's blood feeding the heat into the blade, and Kirathe somehow knew it felt right.
He smiled when the light in the girl's eyes finally went out. Blood spewed from her mouth as she quietly smiled at her killer.
The Balmora mages guild then suddenly returned and Kirathe was standing holding the sword.
He dropped the blade, which crashed loudly on the ground. A number of people jumped at the noise and the assembled group quickly turned, startled at the unexpected movement.
Bendar the Nord and Luien came to their feet as Kirathe fell backwards and crawled away from the short sword. Unable to take his eyes from the blade, Kirathe turned white as he remembered the details of the horrific vision. Worst, he remembered his feeling of joy and contentment as he ended the life of the young girl. Kirathe rolled over onto his hands and knees and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor.
At the time, the assembled groups were on their feet, some with looks of astonishment, some with confusion. A couple of guild members had ventured over to see the commotion and disgust was written on a few faces.
"What's wrong lad?!" said Bendar loudly. He moved over cautiously and touched Kirathe on the shoulder.
Kirathe knocked his hand off without looking as he sat on his knees, spitting to clear his mouth.
"Leave me be!"
The group looked to one another for some clue as to what they had witnessed.
A small and very elderly Altmer man hobbled into the circle. He looked at the shivering Kirathe for a moment before speaking.
"He's tainted."
The group looked at the small man. Sarynia gasped as she recognised the speaker and came to her feet, "Grandmaster?" she inquired.
The old man's eyes never left Kirathe. He ignored the rest of the people but shook his head slightly, "Did you enjoy it?" he asked Kirathe sadly.
Kirathe's shivering paused for a few moments. Everyone watched him slowly turn his head in the direction of the Grandmaster of the Mages Guild.
"Yes" he hissed quietly.
Not a few in the room gasped in shock. Kirathe had begun to cry, but the tears that were falling were of dark blood.
"Get him to his feet!" the old man ordered.
Kirathe groaned as Bendar and Zaareth each grabbed one of his armed and gently, but forcefully pulled him up to stand on his feet. The Nord and the Bosmer remained at his sides, making sure he didn't fall. Each looked equally worried at what was happening.
Sarynia's hand came to her cheek as she saw the dark stains on Kirathe where the blood had trickled down his face. The blood seemed to have stopped flowing, yet he still seemed weak enough to need support from the Nord and the Bosmer.
One of the first things Sarynia had noticed when she saved Kirathe from the drunken Orc in Seyda Neen was that he had some dark black marks on the back of his neck. The mark was difficult to see in most lights because Kirathe's skin was the dark blue-grey native to Dunmer. Sometimes however, this mark was instantly recognisable as a series of runes, looking as much a tattoo as anything else.
Sarynia had asked Kirathe about the runes on their journey to Balmora. Kirathe had remarked that he had them as long as he remembered, but he didn't put them there. He didn't know what the runes were, but didn't mind them.
"Turn him around," said the Grandmaster.
The two friends shuffled Kirathe around until he was facing in the opposite direction of the old man. The Grandmaster sighed, and his lips became taught. Sarynia had mentioned in passing to a college that the initial reason for her bringing him to the guild was to investigate the runes. Somehow the Grandmaster of the Mages Guild had found out, and came to investigate personally.
The reason was abundantly clear.
Kirathe's runes were moving in his skin, changing into different patterns.