"Insanity is in only in your mind"

Beautiful Dance

After I got to Suron my world came crashing down around me.

My journey to Suron was uneventful, I stopped at farm houses to rest and feed. The only thing I thought of on my way there was if the guards would recognize me, after all I had slain a nobleman and two guards from their house. I got my answer soon after I got into Suron.

I walked slowly into Suron, I was not sure if they had gotten the news of my fiasco yet. As they were from the same house as the nobleman and not too far from him, I figured it would best to move carefully. It's a good thing I am such a good thinker, or else I might not be here anymore. I looked around the town, seeing no guards I quickly dashed to the nearest house and hid behind it. I waited there for a few moments, soon after a guard walked by, he surely would have seen me had I not moved.

Maybe ten minuets later, I decided it was safe, and went for a nearby citizen. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties, good, young blood was the best. I silently crept behind him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. When he got near the east side of town I took my chance, I grabbed him from behind and covered his mouth, then started to drag him into the alley behind me. Just before we got into the shadows, a guard came around the bend on his patrol.

Seeing me he must have realized who I was. Knowing I was discovered I knocked my meal out and put him on my shoulders.

Leaping onto the nearest roof I started to clime the small mountain to the east of Suron. After making it over the top I paid little attention to my surroundings, and hid behind a nearby rock to feed.

I heard him before anything else, a large man by the sound of it. Covered in armor but quite graceful, he came around the side of the rock. He was an Orc, wearing a full set of Orcish armor, sans the helm. I stopped feasting and looked the Orc over; he was looking right into my eyes as I looked into his. I did not see fear in those eyes, but a lust for the dance, he wanted to die, but no one could give it to him.

He must have seen the same in my eyes, as he pulled his blade off his back. It was the most beautiful blade I had ever seen. It was a pure Ebony blade, and glowed with an ethereal purple light. I pulled my own sword off my back and saw him glance at it; he obviously thought the same about mine.

Looking into each others eyes we came to an unspoken agreement. We both wanted to die, but no one could give it to us. We knew that we weren't fighting each other because we were enemies, but because we wanted it to end.

I went into a defensive position, as he went into an attack. Thus began the dance of death. I swung my blade and caught his swing to my side, then turned it into a swing of my own. Which is better? To not be hit? Or to be hit but not be harmed? He must have thought the latter. He could have blocked my swing, but he decided to take the blow, perhaps to gauge me. My swing hit him forcefully in the side, slicing though the Orcish armor like paper. It was not a killing blow, but one to test his armor, and draw blood. Had someone been watching from the mountains they would have seen the most beautiful dance to grace all of Morrowind.

Orcs tend to go insane with rage when cut; they go into frenzy, slaying anything the moves. They could be counted on to be even clumsier then normal. This one was an exception, when cut he seemed to get more agile then normal. He swung at me trying to slice me across the belly. I flipped back avoiding the blow, then jumped at him attempting to cut him down the chest, the Orc brought his blade up and easily knocked mine aside, then hacked at my arm and managed to draw blood.

Knowing that this fight would be won by agility not strength, I started to do so many swings, slashes, and thrusts that I can not even begin to describe them all in my lifetime. I ended by slashing him across the torso, shredding his cuirass and cracking his ribs. Knowing he was beat he dropped his sword and got onto his knees, waiting for the final bow.

Seeing this I decided to do it quick. I spun around, and cut his head clean off his body and ended the deadly dance. I spent most of the night burying his body; after my task was done I looked at the blade he left for me. "Umbra" was set into its hilt; I can only assume that was his name. I left my own blade as a headstone. I don't regret it in anyway; I even carved his name into the handle.

I kneeled upon his grave and thought, I thought about my own madness, I thought about why the gods did this to me, but mostly I thought about what I had to do next.

I left with the Umbra in my hands, and headed to the Ashlands, never to return.