The Fall of Lord Kelvyn
By Commentaholic
Chapter 9, Part 2
Rhesus, Veteran of the Arena; renowned warrior of fortune, lay dying in the Arena sands at the foot of a towering figure.
"You... fought well... brother of... battle," Rhesus slurred through the blood pooling in his mouth. A stream of sanguine liquid spilled from his cracked lips, sliding down his cheek past his smashed nose.
"As did you, worthy opponent," rumbled the Orc Spellsword, Gorgoth gro-Kharz, "Malacath will watch over your soul."
The Orc eased Rhesus's sword into the dying Redguard's hand. Rhesus gazed up at the sky, a pained smile crossing his features.
The sun shone through drifting clouds, birds soared across the pale blue sky. Strange, Rhesus thought, I've never truly appreciated the beauty of the sky.
His final thought, as he breathed his last, was of a single word: Tierra...
Rhesus's soul was suddenly ripped from its resting place in the endless plane of eternity. Rhesus's body screamed for air. The Redguard inhaled a massive breath to save himself from his deprived lungs. He lay gasping on the cold stones that he had awoken on, until he realized that someone was crouching next to him. This someone was wearing a dark robe, his face shrouded in darkness. Rhesus's instincts kicked in as he reached for his sword, only to find it missing from its scabbard. His torso exploded in agony, and he rolled around, thrashing on the floor until, with a few words from the cloaked figure, the pain eased.
"You should lay still, the spell isn't finished mending the damage from that vicious slash in your abdomen," said the figure in a deep voice.
Rhesus then remembered everything: The battle, the injuries, passing into the peacefulness of death. But how was he still alive? "How is this possible?" Rhesus said hoarsely.
"I have rescued you from the dullness of death, that you may serve my purposes. It would have been a waste for such a fine warrior as you to simply lie rotting here in the sewer beneath the bloodworks!" said the voice, almost as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.
A chill crept up Rhesus's spine. A Necromancer… Rhesus had met several of them in his years of adventuring before his time in the Arena, and knew what they were capable of, and that their intentions were never truly charitable.
"H-How long have I been lying here?" asked Rhesus in a raspy voice as he felt a new wave of pain sweep through his chest.
"If the Arena records are to be believed, you've been rotting here for almost 8 weeks. It's uncertain, though. Much information was lost when the Imperial Archives went up in flames when the hordes of Oblivion invaded the city," replied the necromancer, "It has taken about a week to restore you to this state. Normally, my people just bring back the skeleton or rotting corpse, but I saw your battle with the Orc. I knew your experience was too good to go to waste. Now, you should sleep until my spell is finished."
Rhesus's eyes fluttered as the compulsion to fall asleep became overwhelming. His last thought before he succumbed to sleep was a single question: What will happen now?
Rhesus awoke after what felt like an eternity. Before opening his eyes, he used his ears to gather what information he could about his surroundings. He was lying on a bedroll in a cave, he knew that much from the telltale drip-drip of water. He also heard the rustle of parchment off to the side. Rhesus opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the sound. The necromancer sat at a table nearby, writing in a journal. Ancient scrolls lay scattered upon the desk at which the stranger wrote. The necromancer's hood was now resting upon his shoulders, revealing his features in the flickering candlelight. Behind him, against the wall, leaned several wooden coffins, recently vacated. A library lined the opposite wall, stacked high with books and alchemical equipment.
The Altmer glanced towards Rhesus, and seeing that the Redguard was awake, rose and knelt next to the bedroll. The necromancer began to examine Rhesus, and after some coaxing, got Rhesus to remove the bandages that encased his lower chest.
The wound was gone. Rhesus stared at where he knew he had been fatally wounded, yet couldn't find a trace of the knife wound.
"Good, the spell has run its course. I was afraid it wouldn't take, as I usually only use it on the recently deceased," said the Altmer.
"I never asked your name," said Rhesus.
"Ah, right! Forgive my poor manners, I am Celedaen, a scholar of the dark arts, and as I'm sure you've figured out, a necromancer of prodigious skill," the Altmer boasted.
"Necromancy's illegal, didn't you know that?" Rhesus said weakly.
"Are you complaining, Redguard? I could undo my spell, if you wish."
Rhesus raised his hands in a placating gesture, "Sorry, I'm not used to being resurrected."
"Understandable, you are unaccustomed to the ways of my people. That ignorance will pass soon enough," Celedaen said, almost in a foreshadowing manner.
Over time, Rhesus was coached through his recovery by the necromancer. He needed to learn how to assert control over his body, now that it was magically maintained. Until he was completely recovered, Rhesus would be of no use to Celedaen. Rhesus began to recover, yet made no attempt to leave due to the Altmer's hospitality. Celedaen did his best to limit Rhesus's chronic pain caused by the resurrection spell weakening. The necromancer created a spell that had to be administered every three days. The frequency that the spell needed to be administered at was inconvenient, but a necessity, or else Rhesus's entrails would seep out through a rapidly appearing and very familiar wound.
A few weeks later, Rhesus walked through the corridor leading from Celedaen's study to the necromancer's ritual chamber. He was particularly proud that he could make it from the study to the ritual chamber without losing his breath; it was a sign that his recovery was almost complete. Rhesus opened the door to the necromancer's room, only to duck under a book as it flew through the door. Celedaen had obviously run into some trouble with his research. Celedaen was disgruntled often nowadays, because it seemed as though the research material that he'd been following had suddenly been nearly impossible to find. Weeks went by between discoveries now, and it seemed that the trail of knowledge had finally faded, lost forever.
Rhesus peered around the door, looking for Celedaen. The room was in disarray, a drastic change from Celedaen's usual tidiness. The Altmer himself was curled up close to the opposite wall, his back against a pedestal containing a skull, a few vials of blood, and a daedra heart obtained from the body of a fallen Dremora Kynvall in the days following the daedric invasion of the Imperial City. Something devastating had to have happened to prompt Celedaen to ransack his inner sanctum.
Rhesus cautiously made his way toward Celedaen, keeping an eye out for more flying pieces of literature. An acrid scent permeated the air. Celedaen was sobbing uncontrollably into his arms. Rhesus then saw the reason for this breakdown. On the floor a few feet away, a bottle that had previously contained a special elixir lay shattered on the stone floor. The vial had contained Celedaen's life's work. Made from painstakingly gathered ingredients from all over Cyrodiil, many rare or extinct, the elixir was irreplaceable. Some of the ingredients had even had to be bartered for on the border of Black Marsh in exchange for valuable magic relics. This was a huge setback in the Altmer's quest. Celedaen hadn't seen fit to tell Rhesus what his goal was, but Rhesus knew obsession when he saw it. Rhesus also could recognize the signs of a broken man.
Rhesus didn't know what to do. Here was the man to whom he owed his life, but the Redguard didn't know how to fix this latest catastrophe. He spied a book on a small table nearby; it was the book Celedaen had been writing in on the day Rhesus had awoken in Leafrot Cave, The Path of Transcendence. Rhesus stepped around the sobbing Altmer and picked the book up from the table. Notes had been scribbled in the margins, some of it Celedaen's, some of it in an ancient, unrecognizable language. The book was open to a page depicting an elixir that was key to a certain ritual. Rhesus assumed that the elixir it described was the one laying spilled into the thin layer of dirt that coated the cavern's floor.
Rhesus read further in the book, reading about the ritual that Celedaen had been preparing. The book didn't go into much detail on what the outcome would be, only the instructions on how to complete the ritual. Rhesus assumed that the outcome was contained between the pages in the beginning of the book, but that wasn't important right now. Rhesus was reading the book to try to find a solution to this new problem in order to repay the man who had given him a second chance at life.
Aha, this is it, thought Rhesus, finding a page speaking of an alternate path of action that would wind up producing the same result that the elixir would have created. On the page were sketches of different containers and vessels, with a list of enchantments to be placed on it next to the pictures. At the top of the page were two words: Soul Transference.
Once shown this page of the tome, Celedaen became elated. A few days later, he was back to his normal self, researching everything he could find on the topic of Soul Transferences.
A week later, Celedaen called Rhesus into the ritual chamber. Rhesus strode down the corridor, opening the door into the cavern. Celedaen was standing at the podium, his back to the Redguard.
"What is it, Celedaen, do you need something?" asked Rhesus.
Celedaen turned, and Rhesus noticed the grin on the Altmer's face. That grin created a chill that crept up Rhesus's spine.
"Rhesus, you know how I've cared for you for the last few months and never asked anything in return other than assistance in minor experiments?" asked Celedaen.
Rhesus didn't like the sound of where this conversation was going, but stood his ground.
"Yes, and I am grateful for it. Is there another errand you need me to run?" Rhesus replied.
"I need you to go to Cadlew chapel and kill ALL the people you find there, capturing their souls in this stone," Celedaen said darkly, handing Rhesus an intricately carved black gem,"the chapel is located east of Bravil. If I find that you spared anyone, I will be most displeased."
The dark gem tumbled from Rhesus's limp fingers as the Redguard's mouth gaped; he had done things to aid the necromancer in his experiments, even extracting deceased bodies from graves and stealing tomes from private estates. Murder was going too far!
"Now, wait just a minute-," Rhesus began.
"Do you wish me to let you die? Without me, you will perish by nightfall, and you cannot hope to find another spell caster in that time. And even if you could, they would not deign to cast a spell that would sustain an undead warrior," Celedaen said, his voice rising in intensity with every sentence.
Rhesus bowed his head, it was hopeless. Disgusted as he was by the action it would require, he could not allow himself to die again until he returned to his wife, Tierra, a guard in the city of Kvatch. They'd met in Anvil, where she'd been working in the Fighter's Guild. At least, she was trying to. The man in charge of Anvil's Fighter's Guild, a Redguard named Azzan, had refused to give her any missions. He claimed that women weren't supposed to fight in battle. This was an ancient, not to mention outdated belief. Rhesus had walked in, carrying a letter from Owyn, the Blademaster of the Arena. Azzan had just finished a heated argument with Tierra when Rhesus had walked into the hall. He'd watched her storm away from Azzan, her short dreadlocks swinging from side to side. Rhesus had never really had time for romance amidst his warrior's lifestyle, but Tierra was perfect. Where Azzan only saw a female Redguard unfit for war, Rhesus saw a fellow fighter, who knew what it was like in the middle of a battlefield. From that moment on, he knew he'd found his soul mate.
After that day, Rhesus had made any excuse to visit Anvil, and Tierra had noticed. After about a month of his "casual" visits, she'd confronted him, and offered him a drink at The Counts Arms. They talked for hours, Tierra envying his freedom to fight, and Rhesus admiring her determination. Over the next few months, Rhesus's schedule permitting, he and Tierra grew close, and eventually married in the Chapel of Dibella. They'd moved to Kvatch, where Rhesus had inherited a sizeable estate. There, they'd lived quite comfortably for a few years, Rhesus fighting in the Kvatch Arena. Two years later, against his wishes, she enlisted in the town guard, insisting that she refused to be supported solely by Rhesus's career in the Arena. The Redguard had finally ceded the victory to her, she was a warrior, and he loved her all the more for it. Tierra may have moved on in the time he'd been dead, but she was still the wind beneath his wings.
"Fine, I'll do it." Rhesus said through clenched teeth.
Celedaen created enough scrolls to maintain Rhesus's life until he returned, making sure to cast the traditional "single-use enchantment" on them. Once they were all tucked away in Rhesus's pack, the Redguard left Leafrot Cave, emerging into the light of the twin moons of Nirn. Masser was full and Secunda was three-quarters full, so there was plenty of moonlight by which to see the trail that wound through the trees. Rhesus hefted his pack, heading southward down the trail. He was going to be in for a long night.
The trip to Cadlew Chapel was fairly uneventful, other than the occasional wolf that would spring from the underbrush on the side of the road. These ambushes ended in failure though, always concluding with the wolf being struck down by Rhesus's steel longsword.
By midmorning, the spire of the chapel appeared over the trees, and Rhesus adjusted his pack so it wouldn't hinder his movements. He had to be prepared for anything.
Rhesus approached the door of the chapel, easing his blade from its sheath as he inched the heavy door open, and peered inside. The foyer was empty, benches were placed in four rows of two along the center of the room, facing the podium and altar at the front of the room.
Rhesus cautiously made his way to the door located in the side wall. The corridor beyond led to the living quarters. In the main room, from which many doors led into bedchambers, he found the clergy.
Gathered around the dining table, sharing an early lunch, there sat 6 monks and a priest. Rhesus quickly ducked into the nearest doorway, and peered around the corner at the group of people.
Rhesus closed his eyes, for Tierra, he said.
Rhesus rounded the corner, brandishing his sword. The blade flashed in the torchlight as it swung towards its target, the nearest monk. The Breton monk had only time to let out a gurgled scream before he slumped over the table, his throat sliced open.
Blood spattered on the wall as Rhesus swung back to strike the next monk, an Imperial, who also fell, the bloody sword slashing his chest open.
The other 4 monks tried to flee, their brown robes whipping around their legs as they made a break for the corridor at Rhesus's back. 2 of them were cut down by a Rhesus's nimble blade. The remaining pair looked at each other, and then at Rhesus, raising their fists in preparation for an attempt to take him down. Rhesus brought his sword up in front of him, angling it toward the monks.
Glonradan stood on the other side of the room and watched as the Redguard cut down the last two monks with the efficiency of a seasoned warrior. The Redguard looked the Bosmer priest in the eye as he stepped over Antonio's butchered body while Bracius's body toppled to the ground, his head hitting the floor a moment later.
The mysterious swordsman's eyes were the color of ice, and as hard as stone. Glonradan, however, due to years of seeing it in the eyes of sinners, could see regret and pain hidden behind that cold gaze. In that moment, Glonradan had a sudden sense of peace, instead of fear at the coming darkness. His only feeling was pity at the tortured look veiled behind the icy eyes of the Redguard.
The Redguard stepped in front of Glonradan and raised his blade for the final blow. He hesitated when the priest spoke.
"May the Nine Divines forgive you for what you must do," said Glonradan.
The Redguard's blade quivered, it's gleaming steel reflecting flickering torchlight, its edge dripping blood upon the cold stones. At that moment, the Redguard's eyes flickered, showing a sudden look of sorrow. The warrior said, "No, priest, I don't think they will."
The blade fell, blood flowed.
Rhesus gazed down at the body of the priest, eyes shining moistly in the light of the dying fireplace. He pulled out the faceted jewel given to him by Celedaen, and held it aloft near the center of the room as the necromancer had instructed him to do. The jewel began to glow.
A pale mist began rising from the bloodstained corpses, spiraling towards the center of the room, converging on the dark gem. When all the mist was gone, disappeared into the jewel, Rhesus examined it. It now glowed from within, a cold blue flame flickering inside the jewel's core. Celedaen would have his souls for his project, but Rhesus's soul had paid the price for them. The journey back to Leafrot Cave was the longest trip of Rhesus's life.
Weeks passed, and Rhesus was sent on more errands. Mostly, they were to retrieve artifacts from Ayleid ruins: a welkynd stone here, an ancient scroll there; the only reason Rhesus made it through this time without losing his sanity was the thought of Tierra.
One day, Celedaen told Rhesus to go and make sure that the area around the cave was secure. He told Rhesus that soon, his project would be complete, and all the years of research would pay off at last.
On his way back from the nearby hill, he spotted a horse, as black as night, grazing on a nearby patch of grass. Rhesus picked up his pace. A horse here could only mean one thing, because Leafrot Cave was the only thing worth the trouble for about 10 miles; they had an intruder.
Rhesus hurried back to the cave to warn Celedaen. He rushed through the study, noting the weapons and bones strewn across the floor. Entering the inner sanctum of the cave, Rhesus heard a painful moan, and the clatter of wood and tinkles of broken glass. Rhesus threw open the door to Celedaen's ritual chamber to see a cloaked figure holding The Path of Transcendence, standing over a huddled mass of familiar black robes. Every one of Rhesus's instincts screamed at him to engage the dark figure, and Rhesus grasped the hilt of his sword. This action screeched to a halt when the Redguard heard a familiar voice.
"Rhesus..." Celedaen said weakly.
Rhesus, throwing caution to the winds, rushed to Celedaen's side, ignoring the menacing figure, and knelt beside the Altmer, who was as white as a sheet; the necromancer's breathing became shallow. A broken hourglass lay on its side, purple sand spilling into the dirt and stone. Rhesus heard the muted rasp of metal on metal. Rhesus tried to shield Celedaen, but was too slow.
A long, thin blade plunged past Rhesus's vision, angling toward the necromancer. There was a sickening thunk as the blade hacked open the Altmer's rib cage, throwing blood and bits of bone into the air with the force of the blow.
The blade withdrew, then flashed once more, this time it halted at Rhesus's neck, creating a shallow cut. Blood seeped from the wound, joining the blood of Celedaen dripping from the sword's deadly edge. At the other end of the long, slender Elven claymore, the dark figure cocked its head quizzically to the side.
"And who might this be?" a female voice asked, "The contract only mentioned one occupant of the cave."
"Contract", this was one of the mysterious Dark Brotherhood assassins, then. Rhesus had heard of the order of murderers while passing through the Imperial City a few weeks before his last Arena battle. Apparently, a citizen had been arrested for attempting to hire the assassins, but had been apprehended before he could complete the ritual of summoning. If completed correctly, the ritual would prompt the timely arrival of a representative from the Dark Brotherhood, who would negotiate the terms of the murder.
Normally, the rare sight of these silent killers would unnerve even the bravest warrior. Rhesus, however, had nothing to lose. His life, such as it was, would soon end anyway.
Rhesus eyed the cloaked figure, taking note of arm reach, height, and stance. Rhesus closed his eyes for a moment, pondering his next move.
His eyes snapped open; he spun, slapping the blade away with his left hand, dancing backwards in a spinning leap, drawing both his longsword and shortsword once he was clear of the Elven blade's reach.
If the assassin was startled by his sudden resistance, she didn't show it. Green eyes peered out from the the hood, apprising the Redguard. Her only move was to bring her claymore up in front of her, shifting her footing to provide more stability.
They stood, eyes locked, muscles tensed. Rhesus let out a battle scream, lunging forward, spinning around to bring his blades slashing towards the assassin. His strikes, first high, then low, were parried with ease. The woman then spun, hurling her cloak towards the Redguard to momentarily distract Rhesus. By the time Rhesus freed himself from the silky cloth, he only had time to bring his blades up to catch the Elven claymore on them, parrying the downward slash.
Rhesus grunted with the force of the woman's blow, he hadn't counted on her having such strength with such a heavy weapon. Claymores, even Elven ones, were rumored to be powerful, but heavy and unwieldy. He pushed the claymore's blade away, his mind rapidly scrambling to come up with a way out of this situation.
The assassin didn't give him the chance to think of a plan. The woman danced backwards, then to the side, twirling her blade as she did so. The narrow blade of her claymore flashed as she jumped, twirling through the air, twisting so that she tumbled through the air horizontally, with her sword coming down upon Rhesus's blades with a vicious downward force, knocking them from his grasp. As his blades clattered onto the ground, a black leather-clad boot appeared in his vision, colliding with Rhesus's chin, knocking him onto his back a few feet away.
Rhesus shook his throbbing head to clear it, and tried to rise, reaching for his shortsword a few feet away. A boot came down on his outstretched arm, and the bright metal of the assassin's Elven claymore appeared once more at his throat. Rhesus let his head fall back onto the rough-hewn stone floor, exhausted and defeated. He looked up at the woman, glaring defiantly.
"You might as well kill me, assassin, without Celedaen, I'll be dead by morning, anyway." Rhesus said, panting with exhaustion.
"And why is that?" inquired the woman, lowering her sword slightly.
"Only he could cast the spell keeping me alive, and now that he's dead, I will soon pass once more into the Void."
"What do you mean 'again'? Never mind; Helen, get in here!" shouted the woman, pulling her hood back to reveal a young Dunmer woman with purple skin, dark red hair, and the brilliant green eyes the color of emeralds that he'd seen earlier beneath the hood. Their true color was a brighter green than they'd been from beneath the hood. She removed the claymore from Rhesus's throat, sliding it into its sling on her back.
Another figure entered the chamber; this one had its hood pulled back as well. It was a Breton woman, clad in a blue robe, had tousled brown hair, and gleaming red eyes. The eyes were what threw Rhesus off until he noticed her fangs.
Of course, a dark brotherhood assassin WOULD team up with a vampire.
"Velvet, you wouldn't believe the collection of spell books back there-"the Breton that Rhesus assumed to be Helen, began to say.
"Helen, is now really the time? Have a look around here; see if you can find anything about a life-maintaining spell. Lucien mentioned that he needed one if we were ever going to upgrade the Dark Guardians."
"Velvet, what about this guy?" Helen asked, nodding her head toward Rhesus.
"Just go have a look, Helen," Velvet said exasperatedly, "I'll handle the details, but I want to ask this Redguard a few things first."
"Fine, but be careful, Velvet. This he seems like a very capable warrior, I wouldn't take chances with him. For all we know, he could have been that necromancer's bodyguard. He might make a try for revenge."
Helen went back through the door, heading for the late Celedaen's study.
Velvet watched her go, and then turned back towards Rhesus. He hadn't moved, he was amazed to still be alive, even more so that the assassin that had just killed his captor would help him.
Velvet knelt by Rhesus, casting a critical look over him. "So, what's your story?" she asked, "You seem like too good of a warrior to be a necromancer's goon, much less to have died in the first place."
"I met a stronger warrior and lost to him in the Arena, that's all," Rhesus said, "Celedaen there just happened to be in a position to salvage my body from the mudcrabs and rats of the sewers."
"Why was your body in the sewers? Don't they return the bodies of fallen combatants to their loved ones?" inquired Velvet.
"They couldn't be bothered to send me to my wife. To the arena managers, I was only worth their time when I wasalive and fighting." Rhesus said bitterly, "Those ungrateful swine. I give 7 years of my life to that Arena, and the moment I'm dead, they toss me in the sewers." He spat towards the wall from his position on the floor.
"Well, I could offer you a place where your skills would be most welcome. You see, I'm trying to assemble a -" Velvet said, before being cut off by a shout from the other room.
"FOUND IT!" Helen yelled from the study.
Helen staggered back through the door, her face obscured by the stack of scrolls and tomes she was carrying in her arms.
"OOF," she grunted as she bumped into the table before dumping the armful of knowledge across its surface, "this should keep Lucien busy for a while."
Helen looked at Velvet, who had jumped back to her feet while Helen had been distracted, then at Rhesus.
"So, what's the plan with the Redguard?" Helen asked.
Velvet walked over to the pile of scrolls, sifting through them.
Helen crossed her arms, not enjoying being ignored, saying, "Well?"
Only Rhesus saw Velvet slip a couple of the scrolls up her sleeve before turning back to Helen.
"I'll finish him off while you load this stuff onto Shadowmere. I'll take a look for anything of value in the library, then meet you outside." said Velvet.
Helen gathered up the scrolls and books, and with a glance backwards at Velvet, turned and left the cavern.
As soon as Velvet was sure that Helen was outside, she rushed to Rhesus's side.
"Listen, I need you to lay low for a while until I can create one of these that will survive multiple uses," she said hastily, shoving the pilfered scrolls into Rhesus's arms, "use these and wait at Hero Hill until I return. The hill is located about two days' hike southwest from here. There's a little cabin a little ways south of the summit. I'll be there in about a week to collect you."
Velvet offered her hand to Rhesus to help him up. Rhesus hesitated, then grabbed it, and was pulled to his feet with surprising ease by the slender Dunmer.
"I'll explain everything when we meet again, I promise." Velvet said, pulling her hood forward over her head. Rhesus followed her to the library, pointing out the more valuable tomes to support Velvet's story with Helen. She stopped at the door to the forest, turning to Rhesus and giving a small wave of farewell. Then she vanished into the shadows of the trees.
Rhesus knew one thing: if he was ever going to find Tierra again, he'd need Velvet's help. He went back inside and started packing after using one of the scrolls. It was going to be a long journey to the hill through the lonely night, and Rhesus wanted to get an early start.
Rhesus paused next to Celedaen's corpse as he passed through the ritual chamber on his way through from his quarters. Looking down at the dead necromancer, ironic as it was, saddened the Redguard. After all, even though Celedaen had been Rhesus's jailor, the Altmer had also given the Redguard a second chance at life. Rhesus would make the most of his second chance, fragile as it was.
"Goodbye, Celedaen, may you find the peace that my soul will never know." Rhesus said as he shouldered his pack and left Leafrot Cave for the last time.
A/N: More to come. This is by no means the end of Rhesus's solitary wanderings.
Sorry if the A/N in the first part was confusing, I started writing this chapter on the 2nd of September, feeling obligated to submit a chapter to start the month. It ended up being longer and more complex than I originally intended, so I had to forego the planned Velvet/Kelvyn confrontation. I kinda felt the need to split the chapter into two parts, and my dad agreed. First chapter with actual detailed content and fighting scenes! My dad thought I did well, what do you guys think?