Seven Saviors: Chapter 3:
Mystics and Mages
Hey everyone, just wanted to apologize for lack of updates to well, everything. College is becoming taxing, but if I try working on my homework, I'll fall asleep on my dorm floor, again. My homework is trying to throw me into a vegetative state. I refuse to conform, and will finish it tomorrow before class. The luxuries of college, lol. Anyway, this chapter we will meet two more characters. We're getting this story on a roll, bringing our tally of characters to five. Mystic implies a sort of martial artist, but I digress… On with the chapter!
Makar Al-Zhir checked his gear in the antechamber above the fort entrance, where he had found, to his disgust, bodies nailed to the wall, with organs and parts missing, and insides exposed. Fighting the spasms of his stomach, the Redguard realized he was going to encounter some form of undead, for only the soulless evil they represented could do this. After all, it wasn't like there were Daedra running rampant in Cyrodiil. (Author's Note: This, my friends, is called very ironically used foreshadowing). He checked his potions, tested his bowstring, and buckled his gauntlets. He checked his enchanted fire arrows, and strapped the quiver to his back. He then entered the abandoned imperial fort. He walked down the stairs, and put on a special enchanted hood, causing his vision to become blue-tinted and penetrating the darkness. He detected a slight disturbance in the air, slowly closing in on him on his right. In a fluid motion borne of hours practicing reactions, Makar spun, nocked an arrow to his bowstring, and let fly, slamming the hidden figure in the chest with such force that it slammed them into the wall. The figure was revealed as they slid down the wall and the illusion faded. Looking closely, he noticed the figure's pale skin, red eyes, and sharpened canines.
"Vampires," the Redguard monk mused aloud, "Could it possibly be so easy to get revenge?" He salvaged some vampire ashes from the slowly dissolving vampire, and moved on. He continued slaying vampires with his fire arrows, until he encountered a completely unexpected foe.
Makar entered the chamber, eyes roving the walls and balconies for danger. He suddenly took a hit to the back of his legs and then into the small of his back, sending him flying into the middle of the chamber, where he got to his feet with a grunt of pain. A Vampire was descending the stairs behind him, hissing as it stared hungrily at him. Realizing that he had dropped his bow by the door, Makar feigned weakness as the creature advanced, its hiss coupled with the scrape of a rusted iron dagger from a sheath.
"I will bleed you slowly, Redguard, and enjoy the taste of your still-warm blood and the dulcet tones of your screams of pain."
"I think not, foul creature," the monk said calmly, leaping up into the air, and bringing his foot down in a hatchet kick through the vampire's collarbone, effectively snapping it and crumpling the vampire. He stood over the vampire, and pressed his foot on the creature's chest. (A/N: I know, I know, you can't kick in oblivion without downloading some of the awesome mods out there, but monks should be able to, no?).
"I came home to my village in Hammerfell, creature, and what do I find? I find a pitiful creature like yourself, standing like I do now, foot pressed on my little sister's chest as a fellow of yours sucked her blood, my parents already dead in the corner. I killed the one draining her of her life and then broke every bone of the other's body. Your kind destroyed my family, killed them in disgrace. I bested them so easily, just as I have with you…"
And with that, Makar slammed his right hand in a spear-hand assault into the vampire's windpipe, crushing it and enjoying the red glow of the vampire's eyes fade. He heard sardonic clapping behind him, and a cold voice drawled to him.
"You are merciless in your hunt for vengeance, Redguard. Your anger and desire for retribution makes you powerful. Come, ease your pain. Join my clan, and become more powerful than you already are. The powers of the soulless children of Sithis would make you great," the voice said with passion.
"I think not, creature of the night. I came for vengeance, not recruitment offers. And as my obligation requires, I must slay you now," Makar replied, and spun, throwing a fist of infinite power at the vampire, who caught it in one hand, and applied pressure, causing Makar to sink to his knees. Makar slammed his head into the vampire's stomach, and spun around, hooking a kick. The vampire drew a silver dagger, and slashed Makar's leg as he passed. Grabbing the leg, the vampire spun and hurled Makar against a pillar. Makar crumpled, unable to stand as the ancient vampire slowly walked toward him, laughing evilly. Makar closed his eyes, wishing that he could have slain this foe for his family before dying, as the vampire raised a massive claymore above his head and prepared to slash down. Suddenly, a fireball slammed through the vampire's chest and out the front, hitting the floor and disappearing near Makar's right hand. Three more fireballs slammed through, left, right, left, and then the vampire stood there, claymore dropped to the floor. The tip of a silver short-sword slammed through the vampire's neck and stuck out the front for a moment, and with a gurgle, the vampire slumped to the floor. A dark-skinned figure kneeled next to Makar, red eyes assessing the wounds. Makar stiffened, afraid that this was yet another vampire who wanted to kill him. But the eyes were different. Makar recognized his rescuer as a Dark Elf mage now.
"I presume this patriarch was kind enough to warmly welcome you to Fort Caratacas, Redguard?" the mage said, white teeth gleaming in the dark dungeon as he grinned.
"I definitely prefer the greetings of offended tavern girls to vampiric shows of affection," the beleaguered monk said dryly, watching as the mage pressed hands to his legs, sending warm waves of healing magic pulsing through his body.
"Well, my friend, we seem to be in a bad position currently, for you are too injured to walk, and I can't restore your marrow after turning that patriarch into vampiric powder and stopping the bleeding. Currently the followers of this patriarch are flocking together in a last ditch effort to assault us. I can carry you out of here, but I will need your bow to cover our backs, if you will," said the Dunmer, as he gathered his gear, and Makar's, passing him the bow.
"Sure, good mage, but how do you plan to carry me?" the amused and taller Redguard mystic said with a smirk. His question was answered when the mage cast a Feather spell on him, lightening his body weight, and flung him over his shoulder like a rucksack. They began their ascent, eyeing the shadows warily for movement. Suddenly with a hiss, they were surrounded. Makar decided to pull a few tricks out of his hat at last. He nocked three arrows to his bowstring, and angled each shot. He released his bow on the mage's command, just as the mage released a blaze of fire into the vampire blocking the stairs. Four vampires fell to the ground and disintegrated into ash as the pair made a break for it. Makar fired arrows into the dark behind them, occasionally seeing an arrow flare up as it hit on-target. They finally made their way out into the open air, and the mage started wearily trudging up the hill toward Weynon Priory, Makar walking alongside, one arm draped over his shoulders for support.
"I don't believe I ever got your name in that blasted fort, Master Mage," Makar politely inquired.
The mage laughed.
"I'm Ralas Moranu, Mages Guild Apprentice. I'm no Master Wizard yet, but I have rather high aspirations for the position," Ralas laughed. "And you are…?"
"I'm Makar Al-Zhir, a member of the Fighters' Guild, studying ancient mystic fighting techniques. I've already partially mastered some of the ancient Ayleid fighting techniques. Their bloodthirsty, cruel natures have given me something to go on, at least…" the monk said dryly. He noticed the mage looking forlornly back at the fort.
"What's wrong, mage? Did you drop something in there?"
The Dunmer shook his head.
"No, I'm thinking of the lost fortune in there… Those vampire ashes could have sold for a good price to some vampire hunters I know…"
"Well then, there's no rule that says we can't go back and get them tomorrow or the next day. And if more move in, then we can kill those too," Makar reasoned.
"We?" asked Ralas. "You want to team up with a mage? Most fighters scoff at magic users. Not to mention I have no idea how you want to split the take from this… venture."
Makar grinned.
"Simple enough, my friend. Since you are a mage, you take 75 percent of all gold we find or earn at the end of a day, and any mage equipment or staves we find. I get the remaining 25 percent of the gold, and full rights to all other loot of weapons, armor, and health potions. Odds are better for me finding all my equipment in loot than if you were to try, so more gold for you to purchase items with and enchant our gear."
Ralas raised an eyebrow at his new fighter friend hobbling next to him.
"This is well reasoned, and any good Telvanni descendent like myself would be a fool not to take up this reasonable offer. But have you planned partnering with a mage or something?"
"Friend Ralas, I'd be a fool to not try to plan for anything. I even write out some plans in a book I keep. We should go over them at some point. But for now, I couldn't help but grab these bottles of Shadowbanish wine. A toast to our new friendship and teamwork?"
Ralas raised the offered flagon towards Makar.
"I'll drink to that!" he proclaimed, and they both sat on the hill and enjoyed the looted vintage.
Ten minutes later, all three monks at the Weynon Priory House were startled from a modest supper when two battered, torn, and very drunk comrades stumbled in toasting the Ayleids, the dead Emperor, and Scamps. They were given beds and properly treated, as the monks wondered what else could possibly happen in this neck of the Colovian Highlands.
Well, there you have it readers, sorry it took forever to post, but I have been busy of late. Expect more updates soon, since I have a tad more free time now. Ta Ta, and Happy New Year. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and flamers are sent to Dive Rock to be summarily pushed off. Just kidding. Review away. And if you have time, go to Youtube and search The Drunk Argonian by raditztheradish. I've never seen such a funny Argonian in my lifetime. Later all.
