I was seriously tempted to have the natives fall to their knees and worship Lucien as a God, like all us fangirls do... but somehow I resisted.
Oh, and if you care whether or not Lucien remains a baddy, head over to my profile page and make your vote count ;)
Chapter 4 - When Good Plans Go Bad: 2
Lucien tensed, bringing himself up to his full height, at which he towered over the diminutive form now eyeing him suspiciously from a few steps below. The newcomer was very dark skinned; the colour of a rich dark chocolate, his dreaded hair adorned with colourful threads and beads. His clothes were a bright yellow, contrasting magnificently with his dusky skin, though they seemed well made, and of a style which belied his generally tribal appearance.
The man gesticulated wildly, and yelled something that sounded like 'why-sea-choo'. He seemed to be waiting for Lucien to reply, so the assassin took out the daedric translation manual, and read a passage which translated roughly to:
"I seek an audience with your Dread Lord."
The figure gawped at him. Fighting off the urge to roll his eyes, Lucien tried again:
"I wish to trade,"
The figure let out a high pitched whine, which may or may not have passed for speech, and pointed a shaking finger at the entrance to the pyramid. With a shrug, Lucien reached in and closed the door with a subtle locking spell. An enraged bellow caused him to look about; the figure had ascended a step, looking torn between fight and flight. Fixing him with his most impressive glare, Lucien decided that his first meeting was off to a rather bad start, and that it might be better to kill this one and start again. His hand was halfway towards the hilt of Mehrunes Razor when a second figure joined the first. This figure was rather more impressive in stature, and she was wearing a wicked looking blade to match a wicked expression.
Cursing the rotten luck that had brought him to this accursed country, Lucien raised his eyebrows, and fixed a surprised and inquiring look on his face, focusing on an object a few feet behind his companions. As they turned to see what he was looking at, he quickly summoned a dremora to occupy the empty space.
The two figures gave an alarmed cry and fell back a few steps. The smaller figure glanced wildly at Lucien, but Lucien was gone. Double taking, he gibbered inanely at his companion, who seemed reluctant to take her eye off the dremora. Finally looking around, she snarled in annoyance at finding the interloper gone, and, turning back to face the bizarre creature, drew her sword. But the creature was gone, too.
Lucien watched from the cover of his invisibility spell as the warrior woman yelled in frustration, kicking a loose pebble down into the tree tops. Frantically, they began to look around, trying to spot some sign of their elusive quarry, whispering together in hushed tones. After spending what seemed like an eternity searching the area for the assassin, and numerous doomed attempts to open the locked door of the pyramid, they seemed to accept the inevitable, and turned and descended beneath the canopy, making their way home to report their findings.
From the shadows, Lucien watched, and followed.
xox
The world beneath the trees was dark. Very little light could make it through the thick canopy, creating an environment very different from any that Lucien had seen before. He found he rather liked it; a world that never saw the harsh revealing light of day. And as he somehow knew it would, life thrived in this place. Casting a minor detect life spell, he saw that there was barely a square inch free of the twinkling glow that signified a life form.
As he followed his unwitting guides, he caught glimpses of flashing eyes, regarding them from the shadows. The jabbering shrieks of strange creatures Lucien knew no name for sounded constantly from all sides and above. The smell of rotting plants mixed with the scent of the giant trees and strange night flowers was strangely heady and intoxicating.
Lucien found himself being impressed by the speed and silence with which his guides travelled through the forest, leaving hardly a trail; not that he needed a trail to follow them.
xox
It was a long walk to the settlement, the heat was oppressive, the humidity so intense it seemed to make the air thick; like a soup that you swam through rather than walking. Lucien's robes were sodden, and not just with sweat. By the time his new friends showed signs of slowing, Lucien was in a foul mood. The ground began to grow sandy, and the trees were shrinking, letting in more light, and scorching anyone foolish enough to be clad in black. The wind carried the scent of saltwater and dead fish, sure signs that they were approaching the sea.
If Lucien had been anyone else, he might have been awed at the sight that met him when he finally emerged from beneath the branches, he might have felt his spirit lift and soar above the trees. As it was, he felt his black heart sink with the realisation that this was just not his day. A long curved beach of the whitest sand descended into the crystal waters of a lagoon so sparklingly azure it made his eyes water. Bright fish swam in the shallow waters, and a dolphin leapt in the distance.
How sickeningly perfect, he thought with an invisible scowl. Looking around the beach he caught sight of their destination, and ground his teeth. A collection of rustic fishing shacks, all centred around a pathetic little campfire. Who in oblivion would require an assassin in this nauseating paradise? Where could he find someone with the magicka to get him out of this cess pool of light and perfection?
So intent was he on cursing each and every god and daedra that he failed to notice a strange rippling in the sand, or his two guides looking in anticipation at the spot where an unseen entity had made footprints in the sand. So when the ground shot away from him, and he found himself dangling in a net from a contraption cleverly disguised as a tree, Lucien was… surprised.
His captors wasted no time, using the moment of shock to batter their prey with large sticks, preventing him both from drawing a weapon to cut himself free, and from maintaining consciousness. The last thing Lucien saw before the darkness was a row of strangely white teeth forming a smug grin on his diminutive guide's face.
Sneaky bastard, he thought.