Title: Vicissitudes
Author: BurningSilence
Disclaimer: I tell you, my KIDNEY for the rights to the Elder Scrolls! I may even throw in half my liver. But, alas, I don't think Bethesda has any needs for my organs *sigh*.
Summary: refer to Chapter One
Chapter III:
The Hidden HeirThe first thing she noticed was the heat; the agonizing, excruciating, searing heat. The next thing she noticed? It was how stupid she was for wearing leather.
As Felicienne took a deep breath, trying to acclimate herself to her surroundings, the smell of burnt flesh assaulted her sinuses. She immediately went to cover the lower portion of her face as her eyes fell on the charred remains of what used to be a human.
She let out a nervous chuckle, "I wonder who did this?"
Rubbing her hand across her face, she decided to abandon her leather cuirass. She might've been leaving herself more vulnerable, but at least she wouldn't be in constant misery from the heat. Besides, it wasn't like she couldn't cast a protection spell, or a healing spell for that matter.
As soon as she slipped the leather off of her shoulders, she heard the sound of a small skirmish nearby. Her head immediately perked up, hoping that it was Matius' men. She followed the sounds best she could, until she came across one man fighting several scamps.
'I wonder where the rest of the men are…' she thought as she pulled Dawnfang out of its sheath and ran towards the fight.
It was only then she remembered that scamps were resistant to fire damage, so Dawnfang's flame enchantment would be useless.
'No matter,' she thought, resolutely. 'That just means it'll take a bit longer to kill them.'
She swung the heavy blade at one of the scamps that was preparing to discharge a fireball at the soldier and brought it down across its back, causing it to screech in pain and redirect the fireball towards her. She dodged it by a hair and slid the blade right through the scamp's stomach, ending its life. Felicienne noticed that there were still four more scamps and a clannfear, so she made the decision to summon one of her Mazken to take some of the pressure off of the other soldier.*
When the daedra that had been attacking them were dead, and her Mazken left, the soldier ran up to her, looking rather relieved.
"Thank the Nine," he panted. "I had thought to never see another friendly face…"
His relief soon disappeared as horror spread over his haggard features while he relayed what had happened while he and the other guards had been here. At first, he seemed to have a difficult time articulating what exactly took place; all she could get at first was, "The others…taken…to the tower!"
"It's alright," she said, as soothingly as she could manage. "What's going on?"
"The Captain sent us in here to try to close the gate. We were ambushed, trapped, and picked off! I was lucky, I managed to escape," he let out a self-deprecating laugh. "But the others…the others are strewn across that bridge." He gestured to a lava pool where a bridge led to a giant tower. As she looked closer and her eyes widened; she could see the corpses hanging upside down, all of them flayed and skinned. They had not gone gently.
"They took Menien off to the big tower! You've got to save him!" he implored. "I'm getting out of here," he informed her, looking hopeful.
She thought about it, and then nodded.
"Fine, Captain Matius needs your help anyway."
"The Captain is still holding the barricade? I thought I was the last one left alive," he stated, surprised. He smiled, "Alright, I'll try to get out of here and let the Captain know what's going on." He inclined his head towards the girl and ran towards the Gate.
She looked over at the bridge leading to the tower, and then to the war gate shutting it off and determined she'd probably have to find some other way in.
Wasn't life wonderful?
She sighed, trying to calm the rolling in her stomach. She couldn't afford to lose it now, but in all honesty, this terrified her. She didn't know what to expect, and her knowledge of Oblivion was…limited, to say the least. Her only real experience with Oblivion and daedra were the Shivering Isles; a far cry from this…nightmare. It seemed that not all Daedric Princes were created equal, nor were their Planes of Oblivion.
She kept reminding herself to stay calm, that panicking never solved anything. Did she panic when she needed to kill the Gatekeeper to meet with Sheogorath? Or when she had to kill Lady Syl and cut out her heart to make herself Duchess of Dementia? No, she hadn't, and she wouldn't panic this time either. And just like those times before, she would succeed. With this thought in mind, she continued to walk on, looking for any way to get into that damned tower.
As she walked, tense as a bowstring, she took in everything she was seeing, just in case she got lost. The last thing she wanted was to be wandering around this place with out any idea where she was going. She heard a crack of thunder and heard the ground on a hill above her give way; she barely managed to evade a falling boulder that came crashing down.
She really wanted to close that Gate.
After several miles, and numerous attacks, she arrived at a smaller tower labeled 'The Blood Feast'. This tower appeared to have a bridge at the very top to what she thought looked like the large tower that Menien was imprisoned in, so she could only hope that she was closer to rescuing the guard they took prisoner and closing off the Gate.
With a deep breath, she let herself in…
…And then noticed the three scamps that were waiting for her when she arrived. Fortunately, they were just adolescents, so it wasn't that difficult to kill them. But having three of them, she still came out a little worse for wear. The light shirt she'd been wearing…well, at this point, she might as well not been wearing it, there was so little of it left. Not to mention her newly acquired scorches. And a particularly nasty one on her face that made it hard to even move her mouth.
Unfortunately, she could only heal small wounds with magic, but, if she remembered correctly, she had packed a few health potions. Hopefully, that would take care of any wounds she had. She downed the vile liquid in one gulp, and grimaced.
"Why do they make anything that's supposed be good for you taste terrible?" she muttered, discarding the empty bottle.
She walked through another door into a narrow hallway, which led to a citadel of sorts, where more scamps resided. However, the dremora churl took her completely off guard as he bashed his mace into the back of her head. Her vision blurred for a moment as she felt the pain explode behind her eyes. She let out a sharp cry and almost dropped her sword. The scamp took this as an opening to send a flare her way as the dremora took to trying to smash her skull in, leaving her to try and block the blows as best she could.
She was finally able to release a couple frostballs at the scamp, killing it finally. Yet even as she tried to do the same to the dremora, he took the opening and cracked his mace across her ribs, winding her and cutting off the spell. She gripped her sword more firmly and swung it at his neck, hoping to at least slow him down. She knew she wasn't physically strong enough to even hope for a decapitation. She did, though, manage to sever his jugular and windpipe. She watched dispassionately as he sank to his knees and bled to death.
After the chaos had died down, she noticed a blood fountain and walked over to it. As disgusting as she found it, she washed her hands in it and felt the healing magic begin to take effect.
Shaking herself off, she exited the citadel and made her way through the rest of the tower and found an exit leading outside. As she opened the door, she noticed she was on the bridged she'd seen earlier, before she'd entered the tower. She walked across it carefully, very carefully, towards the tower the bridge led to. She opened the tower door and heard someone cry out, "Up here, in the cage! Over here!"
She walked up the ramp, (which, incidentally was also decorated with hanging bodies), and was accosted by another dremora. But not before she was able to see an Imperial inside a cage that was hanging from the center of the tower. She must've found Menien.
"You should not be here, mortal," the dremora snarled at her, in a strange, gravelly voice. "Your blood is forfeit and your flesh is mine!"
Luckily, this time she hadn't been caught unawares, so after a brief scuffle, she was able to kill the dremora with…less difficulty.
"Hurry, over here!" the man cried out again.
As she rushed over to him, he seemed to calm down somewhat and continued in a more composed tone of voice, "Quickly, I don't think there's much time. You need to get to the top of the large tower. They call it the Sigil Keep. It's what keeps the Oblivion Gate open. Find the Sigil stone. If you remove it, the Gate will close. Hurry! The Keeper should have the key on his body somewhere—you must get that key!"
She walked back over to the creature and felt around until she felt something in one of his pockets.
"Hah," she breathed out as she pulled the key from the pocket. She tucked the key away and rushed to the exit and made her way back across the bridge. She walked back into the citadel and nearly ran to the locked door, fumbling with the as she tried to unlock the citadel hall door. After casting a quick protection spell on herself, she continued her way to get to the Sigil Keep. After making it through the Blood Feast, again, she found the door she needed. This room was different from the others, it looked as if the ground itself was made from charred bones, and parts of the walls looked as if they were made of skin that had been stitched together.
After having to quickly dispose of two more dremora, she saw it; the Sigil Stone. Her hands shook as they reached out to grab the glowing Stone. She plucked the stone from the beam of light suspending it, and the ground…even the air began to vibrate. The whole room seemed to become engulfed in flames.
Then everything went white.
When Felicienne came back to herself, she noticed the rain; the wonderfully cool, cleansing rain. It felt amazing on her face and the rest of her singed body. She promised herself she'd never take the rain for granted again. She didn't care if it was soaking into the remains of her shirt, or water logging her leather leggings and boots, in fact, she rather welcomed it.
She remembered she needed to get back to Savlian Matius so he and his men could lead everyone to the encampment…she'd just talk to Martin…
She sat straight up, eyes going widening in remembrance. 'Martin,' she thought. 'I have to make sure he's still alive!'
She struggled to stand up, grabbing the ruins of the Oblivion Gate to balance herself as she did so. She pushed the city gate open and stumbled through to the burnt out remains of Kvatch. And there, in the middle, was the Chapel of Akatosh. It had been struck by part of another large building, but other than that, seemed to stand fairly strong.
And then three scamps came out of nowhere, charging at her, flinging fireballs every which way. The braver of the scamps would get it close and claw and scratch at her already bruised and bleeding flesh. She did the only thing she could at the moment, and that was summon her Auriel guard to fight for her. She just didn't think she could manage…she was too injured, despite the healing fountain in the Citadel, and she was far too disoriented to get her bearings at the moment. Fortunately, her Golden Saint was able to quickly dispose of the scamps and took her leave, wishing 'Lord Sheogorath' a quick recovery.
Felicienne fumbled around a bit in her satchel for a Fatigue potion; she just needed to gain a bit more of her endurance back, and she'd be right as rain. As she drank the bitter liquid, she could feel her lethargy slowly dissipate and cast a minor healing spell, just enough to make sure she kept going.
She walked to the Chapel and let herself in, hoping the survivors wouldn't attack first and ask questions later. However, when she arrived inside, a female Redguard dressed in the Kvatch City Guard uniform ran up to her and asked, "What's it like out there?"
Felicienne was still trying to fight through the remaining exhaustion while the woman continued, "We were beginning to fear we were the only survivors."
She blinked a couple times, trying to clear away the residual fog, and asked the guard, "Do you know anything about Martin?"
"Brother Martin? Yes, he's right over there. He led a group of us here during the confusion of the attack. We owe him our lives."
The young Breton let out a shuddering sigh of relief. She hadn't failed…she'd still been able to find Martin…alive! She smoothed her hair back, trying to keep it somewhat presentable in its ponytail, despite the fact she'd, literally, been to Oblivion and back. She walked over to where the Redguard had pointed; towards a man dressed in blue priest's robes, with brown hair, and a solemn expression.
He turned to her when she touched his shoulder, his blue eyes dull. "Have you brought help," he asked. "We've been trapped here since the daedra overran the city."
"You have to come with me, you're in danger," she stated, hoping he wouldn't be difficult.
She should have known that would've been too convenient.
"Of course I'm in danger, we all are. Who are you? What do you really want with me?" he questioned, suspicious.
She exhaled, with a bit more force than necessary, "You're Martin, right? The priest?"
"Yes," he sighed. "I'm a priest. Do you need a priest? I don't think I'll be much help to you." He continued, looking angry, "I'm having trouble understanding the gods right now. If this is all part of a divine plan, I'm not sure I want anything to do with it."
"Gods or not, we need your help. But there is a plan," she insisted.
"What plan," he scoffed. "What are you talking about? I prayed to Akatosh all through that terrible night, but no help came. Only more daedra." He looked at her, harshly, "What could you possibly know that would help me make sense of all this?"
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was about to tell him something that seemed implausible. She needed to be prepared to defend it.
Steeling herself, she replied, "You are Uriel Septim's son."
His eyes grew large and a ghost of a derisive smile appeared on his lips, "Emperor Uriel Septim? You think the Emperor is my father?" He shook his head, "no, you have the wrong man. I am a priest of Akatosh. My father was a farmer."
Felicienne was beginning to lose her patience, and she would admit, what she said next was probably said a bit…harshly, "The daedra came here for you!"
"An entire city destroyed to get at me? Why?" he looked stricken and the girl regretted losing her temper, even if for a moment. "…because I'm the Emperor's son?" he ventured, still very disbelieving.
So she tried a new tactic, "Why would I lie to you?"
He sighed, looking off to the side, "I don't know. It's strange…I think you may actually be telling me the truth." He looked directly at her, "What does this mean? What do you want from me?"
"Come with me to Weynon Priory," she implored, her own dark blue eyes wide and beseeching. "Please," she tried again, when she feared she get no response.
He looked to her sharply, "No, even if what you say is true, I won't abandon these people to their fate. I'll go when we can all leave here together."
She was about to protest when he laid a gentle hand on her bare shoulder and looked down at her with kinder eyes. "It isn't that I don't believe you," he stated. "But I won't go with you until I know everyone can leave here, safely. We've been through too much together already for me to just abandon them to their fate."
She clenched her fists, but nodded all the same. She'd just have to go to Captain Matius and help them clear the way. She turned and walked out of the temple and into the city once again.
She ran down the hill towards the barricade as fast as her legs would allow. The sooner she helped the Guard, the sooner she could get Martin to Weynon Priory. And then they could place Martin on the throne where he belonged, and she would have fulfilled Uriel's dying wishes.
She came up to Matius who turned around and exclaimed, "You closed the Gate! I knew you could do it!" She raised her eyebrow when he said that, hadn't he made it pretty clear before he thought she would die? Unaware of her cynicism, he continued, "This is our chance to launch a counter attack!"
He smiled at her again and asked her to come with them. "You've got far more combat experience than these men. Are you ready?"
She nodded, "Yes, I'm ready, I'll be fine."
"That's the spirit," he applauded. "Men!" he barked out. "Are you ready?"
"Sir, yes sir!" the remaining guard affirmed. Matius quickly placed himself in front of them and cried out, "For Kvatch!"
They all charged into the city, with Felicienne following closely behind. She quickly unsheathed Duskfang, for the sun had already set, in preparation for another attack. When she saw that there were three more scamps, she was shocked. She'd thought her Golden Saint had taken care of them! Then she happened to glance up at the remains of a shop and saw a dremora sorcerer summoning up more daedra, if someone didn't kill him soon, they'd be overrun.
She dashed over to the dremora, but he had seen her coming. He grabbed his mace from the side of his waist and swung it towards her head. I connected with her temple, causing blood to run from the side of her face into her left eye, and she fell to the ground while he prepared to strike the back of her head, until one of the guards shot an arrow at the monster, distracting him for a moment while she used on of her legs to knock his feet out from under him. She quickly reached with her left hand for the dagger that Lucien gave her, and as the dremora fell, she pierced his heart.
As soon as he died, the scamps disappeared, leaving the exit point of the city free and clear for the survivors to make their way to the refugee camp. Matius came over and helped pull Felicienne to her feet, chuckling merrily, "We wiped those bastards out!"
She nodded, smiling faintly as her free hand dabbed at the blood on her face, trying to wipe it away. Her eye kept tearing up to wash to blood out, and her head was throbbing like mad. She couldn't wait to get to some place she could wash up and have a good night's sleep.
"It's safe to pull those people out of the chapel. Let's get in there and make sure they're all right," Matius addressed to everyone.
Everyone entered the chapel to take an account of all who was left from the remaining survivors. She over heard the Redguard she'd spoken to earlier tell Matius that they had had other people in the chapel, but they left, thinking they could make it to the encampment on their own. Apparently, none of them made it.
She made her way over to Martin, who'd been standing by the door, speaking to one of Matius' men. When he saw her, he looked quite alarmed. She figured she must've looked a fright, what with her hair matted and bloodied, her face and torso so bruised she looked more like a Dunmer than a Breton, and let's not forget, her ratty, tatted top. He must not have noticed when she first spoke to him; after all, he did have other matters on his mind at the time.
"I wondered if you'd come back," he confessed. "I admit; I've had my doubts about your story."
"Come to Weynon Priory with me," she urged again, her head tilting down in her fatigue. She just wanted to clean up, change her clothes, and get Martin to safety. But he was being rather difficult at the moment.
"You destroyed the Oblivion Gate, they say. You gave them hope. You helped them drive the daedra back," he mused aloud. True…was he going somewhere with this?
"Yes," he said. Her head snapped up, looking up at his face in surprise. "I'll come with you to Weynon Priory and hear what Jauffre has to say. Lead on."
*I'm not exactly great at action scenes…but I'm trying
A/N: And that concludes another chapter of 'Vicissitudes'. I think there will be more mentions of the Dark Brotherhood in the next chapter, but probably towards the end of the chapter. I admit though, I felt pretty bad for having Felicienne get so beat up in this chapter, but she's a tough cookie, I think she can handle it. As always, reviews are welcomed as is constructive criticism.