As promised, here is the 6th chapter. Amori and his friends have been captured by Kazaka, and now the evil Akavir has everything he needs to initiate his master plans. What will happen now? Read on, read on, and discover.
PS: About the portraits in Ocheeva's room: does anyone have a better idea on how to do "photos"?
And now, we return to our feature presentation.
Amori woke in a dark cell. The first thing he did was pat himself down, checking to see what equipment he had left. As expected, Kazaka had left his armor, but had confiscated his weapons. "Figures," he thought, irritated at the loss of his equipment. At least his hands weren't tied. Amori heard a faint whimpering, and he turned to examine his surroundings. Soul-Swimmer was huddled up in a corner, and Sehiiri was comforting Ka-Mala. Delchkahn walked over to Soul-Swimmer and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," he said, "you alright?" Soul-Swimmer looked up into his eyes, and leapt into his arms, smiling.
"Am now," she said happily. Suddenly, they were interrupted by a slow, steady clap. Kazaka stood in the doorway, grinning.
"Awww, how cute," he said mockingly. He took a small, white ball from his pocket, and tossed it into the center of the room. There was a bright flash, and by the time they could see again, Amori and Soul-Swimmer were tied together back-to-back, and Sehiiri and Ka-Mala had their hands bound behind their backs. Twelve Dark Gaurdians stood in a circle around the prisoners, their claymores raised menacingly. Kazaka chuckled maliciously, punching Amori in the gut. Delchkahn grunted with the impact, and Kazaka grabbed his arm and dragged him and Soul-Swimmer down the dark corridor, with the Dark Guardians and the other prisoners following them. They walked until they reached a thin, stone door. Kazaka signaled through a small hole in the top of the door, and the door slid slowly open. Two Dark Guardians strode out of the room, each one holding one of Rhiihaaj's arms. Sehiiri gasped as she saw him; his fur was singed, missing in places, and he had large, black burns all over his body.
"Rhiihaaj," she whispered as he was led to her side. "What happened to you?" Rhiihaaj chuckled under his breath, maintaining his humorous composure despite the grim situation they were in.
"Ka-Mala happened, that's what." Sehiiri glared at the young Argonian. "Don't worry, it's not her fault," Rhiihaaj said quickly, realizing his mistake. "She had orders to torture me, and in the process, told me you were coming." He laughed softly, the odd cross between a purr and a chuckle slipping between closed lips. "Didn't think it would be like this though…" Rhiihaaj was silenced as one of the Gaurdians kneed him in the gut. To everyone's surprise, it began to talk.
"Quiieet, priisssooneer," it whispered darkly, it's voice like a breeze rustling between dry branches or old bones. "The Niighht Mootheer will deeaall with youuu soon enoughhhh…" The undead creature cackled horribly, it's dry jawbones clacking together in a loud, dry, percussive sound. Ka-Mala began to pray quietly, her words coming in short bursts, interspersed with terrified gasps. Amori began to get angry.
"What's going on , Kazaka?" he asked, irritated by the Akavir's silence. "What did that skeletal freak mean by 'the night mother will deal with you soon enough'?" The golden-scaled snake man laughed—a hoarse, raspy, hissing sound—and turned to face his old master, three years his junior, a wide grin plastered across his face.
"You'll ssee," he said. "You'll ssee." The group halted; they had come to a heavy, ancient door. It was made of stone, and had images carved into its surface. A robed, female figure spread her arms over a mountain, her fingers extending and merging to become the night. On the landscape below, five cloaked figures could be seen, each holding a bloodied dagger; the sons of the Night Mother and Sithis, and the original Black Hand. A voice issued from the door, dark and foreboding.
"What pounds harder than a blacksmith's hammer, beats louder than a drum, and is silenced with the a single prick?" Kazaka smiled, and answered the ancient riddle.
"The heart of a sacrifice," was his reply. The door slid open, revealing a black void: a gateway. The dark Kazaka strode into the inky blackness, and the Dark Gaurdians pushed the prisoners in behind him.
Garushag gro-Bolmog grew impatient; where was Kazaka? He had been promised the right to kill his brother's killer on the Black Altar! The brutish Orc scowled; maybe he shouldn't have beaten that Argonian so much. Maybe she'd died, and his "lord and master" Kazaka's ruse had failed. Just as he was about to begin breaking things, an inky black void opened before him, and Kazaka stepped out, grinning. Fourteen Dark Guardians followed behind him, with five prisoners in their midst. Only two caught Garushag's cold eyes; two Argonians tied back-to-back; Soul-Swimmer, and the object of Garushag's hatred: Delchkahn Amori. Garushag smiled wickedly; he was about to get his revenge.
Soul-Swimmer closed her eyes as she was pushed into the void. She could feel the cold of death around her; they were traversing the Void; the realm of Sithis himself. She could feel the souls of the dead slide across her body: cold, clammy, and unnatural. She shivered, wondering if this was what it was like to be dead, if this was what dying felt like. She didn't want to find out. She was startled out of her thoughts as she saw a small light on the other end of the tunnel she and the others were being led through; it was another gate, a gate back into the realm of Nirn. The light was a dim blue, unnatural and unholy in nature. Soul-Swimmer's heart pounded in fear as the drew closer to it, and she shut her eyes as they went through.
Amori blinked as he exited the gate; they were in a familiar underground chamber: the tomb of the Night Mother. Six caskets lined the walls, and dark murals stretched across the room. In the center of the room, however, was something that had not been there before: an immense altar, crafted of onyx and in the form of an immense, black, hand reaching up from the floor. Its fingertips were clawed, and its fingers were spread, curving upwards at the ends. The palm was easily large enough for two people to stand on, and there was a small drainage hole in the center. In horror, Delchkahn realized what was going to happen: he and Soul-Swimmer were going to be sacrificed to the Night Mother. Kazaka walked up to a large Orc standing next to the altar, and handed the brute an ivory sword. The blade's edge was wickedly sharp, and was lined with a cold, black metal that seemed to glow and hum with necrotic energy. The Orc stepped up to the altar as Amori and Soul-Swimmer were shoved onto it, smiling.
"Hello, Amori!" he said mockingly, grinning like a madman. "My name s Garushag gro-Bolmog, and it's time you paid for my brother's murder!" The Orc raised the blade above his head, and both Amori and Soul-Swimmer froze in fear. "Mother of the night!" cried Garushag. "Accept this offering, and return to our world, young and new, in a body crafted from the blood of the fallen!" Garushag grinned and began to bring the blade down. Amori closed his eyes tight, waiting for the blow, but it never came. He looked up, and saw an arrow protruding from Garushag's skull, with Kazaka standing behind him holding a golden bow.
"Blood of a Brother, unknowingly given," he said evilly. As Garushag fell, Amori pushed Soul-Swimmer as far away from him as he could while they were still bound together, and moved the space between them into the path of the sword. As the immense blade came down, it sliced through the ropes binding them together like butter, and Amori and Soul-Swimmer were freed. Before the ivory blade hit the ground, Delchkahn kicked its hilt, sending the blade flying towards one of the Dark Gaurdians. The blade rammed through its ribcage, shattering its spine and crumbling the skeleton into dust. Amori leaped off the altar and landed on all fours, with Soul-Swimmer landing beside him. He laughed, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He felt alilve! For the first time in months, he felt truly alive!
"Huh," he said, smiling, "no weapons, surrounded by enemies, and in the middle of the tomb of one of the most powerful entities ever to walk Tamriel." Soul-Swimmer glanced at him over her shoulder as if he was insane.
"And you're excited about that?" she asked incredulously. Amori laughed.
"Well, being up against impossible odds is just a little reminiscent of how life used to be." His laughter ended, however, as he saw that the Dark Gaurdians holding the captives had their blades to his friends' necks. Kazaka laughed, watching Garushag's blood drain into the basin below the altar.
"You really thought it would be that easy, didn't you 'Masster'?" he said mockingly, putting emphasis on the word master. For months he had had to train under one three years his junior, and now, the tables were turned. "I already have the blood of a Brother; now I need the blood of a leader." Kazaka pointed at Amori with his katana, runes etched along the length of the golden blade. "I need your blood, Amori, and unlesss you give it to me, I will kill all of your friendss here and now!" Amori heard a scream, and turned to see a Dark Guardian dragging Soul-Swimmer away, a blade to her neck. Amori began to think back to his days when he trained the arrogant Akavir, and remembered Kazaka's weakness: his confidence. Amori stood, and faced Kazaka.
"We'll do it this way," he said. "I challenge you to single combat. If I kill you, your Dark Gaurdians crumble into dust and my friends go free. If you kill me, you get your 'leaders blood'." Kazaka grinned, and clicked his tongue.
"Now, that'ss not fair," he said, smiling. "If I lose, I lose my life and my goalss. If you lose, the only thing you lose is your own hide! How about this; if you lose, you have to watch me kill Ssoul-Sswimmer slowly and painfully before your very eyes before I end you!" Amori looked hesitant, but with a sigh, he realized that if he gave Kazaka his blood without a fight, he would murder all of his friends anyways. Amori looked up, his eyes filled with determination.
"Alright then, Kazaka." The Akavir smiled, and tossed Amori FrostFire. Amori caught the sword in midflight, and assumed a combat position, his sword raised above his head, pointing forward, his legs bent in a crouch. "Let's dance!" Kazaka lunged forwars incredibly quickly, and Delchkahn sidestepped, Kazaka's sword barely missing him. The two circled each other, their eyes never leaving the other's face, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Amori twitched his sword in a feint, and Kazaka lunged, thinking that Amori was going to strike. Amori stepped out of the way, and brought his sword down on Kazaka's neck, but the agile Akavir brought his blade up in a parry, and slit it along FrostFire's length, throwing Amori off balance. The two engaged in fierce combat, their two blades, FrostFire and DeathFang clashing in the dim light, each a near mirror of the other. The battle had a beautiful symmetry to it as master and apprentice fought, one representing light and the other darkness. Every time one gained the advantage, the other would steal it away from them. As the battle raged onwards, the Dark Guardians not acting as jailors pointed their weapons towards the center of the room: if either combatant was pushed too far, they would be skewered. Kazaka and Delchkahn were locked in a dance of death, each knowing that one slip would end their life, and shatter the reason they had to live. As the battle progressed, however, something strange happened. Kazaka's body was engulfed in a shroud of black mist, wreathed in the power of Sithis, and Amori's eyes caught fire and he began to glow a bright orange, the might of Akatosh irradiating from his body. All watching the battle were in awe of the two avatars of their chosen gods: this was no longer merely a battle between master and apprentice, but a battle between the gods themselves. The pace of combat increased, sparks flying from the two blades. DeathFang flew in towards Amori's head, and he barely dodged its terrible edge as it whistled past his skull, and he lunged with FrostFire at Kazaka, who barely dodged the tip of Amori's blade. The magical swords souls awakened, and the blades were now as much a part of the battle as their wielders. Their true power was unleashed: FrostFire was engulfed in blue flames, and DeathFang dripped glowing acid and steamed with green fumes. Each combatant knew what would happen if they were touched by the others blade: a single cut from DeathFang would drain Amori's body of its life energy, leaving him as close to death as Kazaka wanted, and a slice from FrostFire would unleash the elemental forces of fire and ice into Kazaka's veins, leading to an untimely demise. The blades clashed, their magic evident as the blades began to hum and glow. DeathFang whistled past Amori's face, the air current behind it leaving a small cut on his cheek, and FrostFire sliced through the air past Kazaka's abdomen, its flames leaving a long, burnt, and frozen cut in the Akavir's armor. The two fought, their power rivaling that of even the Deadra, their eyes locked into each other's. Amori tripped, and rolled out of the way as DeathFang pounded into the stone floor next to him, staining the stones an ugly green, and Amori swung his leg in a kick, knocking Kazaka to the ground. Each combatant backflipped back to their feet, and charged the other. Their blades met, locked together, and they jumped to the side, landing on the grim altar. Each had only a little room to maneuver as the Guardians drew closer so that if one fell, he would die. DeathFang and Frostfire clashed. Their edges slid across one another, sparks flying. At first, FrostFire began to dim, but it regained its strength, burning brighter than ever before. The immense power overwhelmed DeathFang, and the evil blade's power began to vanish, until finally, in a blinding flash of light, DeathFang exploded. Kazaka's eyes were wide in disbelief as Amori's blade continued in a downward arc, slicing through his chest. Kazaka screamed in agony as FrostFire sliced through his flesh. His skin ignited and his blood froze. His eyes caught fire, and Amori's blade continued through his body. FrostFire exited the wound, and with a single, downward slice, Amori cleaved Kazaka in two. Kazaka's burning body fell upon the surface of the altar, his black blood draining into the basin. Amori jumped off of the altar, and sank to the ground, body steaming from the exertion of hosting the spirit of Akatosh. FrostFire returned to its normal state, and the Dark Guardians howled as they crumbled into nothingness. It was over. Soul-Swimmer ran to his side as her captor disintegrated, helping him to his feet.
"Amori!" she cried, "Are you alright?" Amori leaned on her shoulder, too weak to even stand on his own, and slid FrostFire into its scabbard.
"I… I'm fine," he replied. With the death of Kazaka, the magic ropes that bound the other prisoners crumbled into dust. Sehiiri rushed to embrace Rhiihaaj, and he held her in his arms.
"I thought I would never see you again," she said, tears beginning to spill from her eyes. Rhiihaaj hugged her, smiling.
"Shhhh, shhhh," he whispered comfortingly. "What matters is that you did." Ka-Mala stood in a corner, alone. Suddenly, they heard a loud rumble coming from the center of the room. They turned, and saw the hand altar closing into a fist, glowing red. Amori's eyes widened as he realized what had happened.
"The blood of a leader...," he whispered, not wanting to believe what was happening. "Kazaka was the Listener of the Dark Brotherhood, and I killed him on top of the altar! His blood completed the ritual!" The entire tomb began to rumble, and rocks rained down on their heads. Adrenaline flooded through Amori's veins, and he ran for the heavy stone door of the tomb. "Come on, let's GO!" he shouted over the rumbling. "The tomb's collapsing, and the Night Mother is coming back from the dead! Come on, help me get this door open!" Rhiihaaj ran to the door, and the two men pushed on it with all their strength. "I appreciate the help, Rhiihaaj, but I don't think anything different about you," Amori grunted. Rhiihaaj let out a strained laugh.
"Ha, well maybe if we live through this, we'll have some time to get to know each other on more friendly terms." Finally, the stone door buckled, and collapsed outside. The group ran out of the tomb and into the town square of Bravil. Citizens stared in shock as the five beastfolk who had just ran out from the base of the Lucky Old Lady statue. The silence was broken by a scream. The group turned around, and watched in horror as the statue crumbled in upon itself. A young Dunmer woman stood atop the wreckage, clad only in a thin, black, silk robe. The Night Mother
"Ahh," she said, stretching her new arms and legs out. "It's so good to be out of that old tomb. Now , let's have some fun, shall we?" She grinned, and a horde of skeletons poured out of the wreckage and overwhelmed the terrified citizenry of Bravil, led by five reincarnated Dunmer half gods: the original Black Hand.
Woah... Amori and Kazaka fought with the strength of gods and with awakened blades... when I wrote this, even I didn't expect that! And now, the NIght MOther and the original Black Hand have been unleashed on the city of Bravil! What will happen? Will Bravil become another K'vatch? Or will Amori and his friends find a way to stop the Night Mother's skeletal army before it's too late? Only time may tell...
The winds of time blow on, shifting the sands of reality into ever-changing patterns.
-Baeowulf