My Sweet Mother
By Jerickk
Chapter 1: My Sweet Mother (pt. 3)
Set 163 years after the death of Emperor Titus Mede II… (4E 364) science
Screams echoed in the night and blood was staining the streets of Falkreath, the dark brotherhood had come to claim the lives of all who lived in Falkreath, under the wish and pray of Tharic Heartrage.
Tharic laid on the ground unconscious, the power of his spell had sapped almost all his strength, his eyes opened to the sight of a bone hand clawing at his face from under the ground. Tharic barely made it to his feet only to fall upon a tombstone, there he rested and watch as his spell took effect and the skeletons of the long dead dug and pulled themselves out of their own graves. It seemed that every time that Tharic looked, another grave was being disturbed.
As the first of the undead were almost free of the earth Droath came to Tharic's side demanding to know what he had done.
"What the hell have you done? You stupid kid, are you trying to kill us all?"
"I am just evening the odds in our favour, in case you can't count Droath there are only 10 of us against an entire town's guard!"
Tharic looked up to see the skeletons making their way towards him, as the they came closer Droath readied her sword in defence but the undead turned their attention only to Tharic.
The undead stood tall with sword and shield in hand, waiting for what Tharic assumed was his order, Tharic resting against the tombstone rose to his feet, still exhausted from the summoning spell. Tharic then proceeded to order his small army of 13 undead soldiers to hunt down any citizens of Falkreath left alive. The skeletons started to grow restless; they seemed to go into a small rage, banging their shields with their swords, screeching and screaming into the night. Howls that would send shivers down the spine of any man.
The undead soldiers stormed off, cutting down several men and woman alone the way, the pain that they felt was only matched by the sheer fear that they experienced while in the presence of the corpse warriors. Droath made her way back to Tharic helping him regain his balance.
"Come on kid, if we don't hurry my family and your monsters will get all the fun and leave nothing for us."
"I agree lets head straight to the palace of Falkreath."
Droath raised concern as this was not part of the original plan.
"My brothers and sisters are still scattered around the city, if we go to the palace now, we're on our own."
"My mother is dead, I am going to be alone for the rest of my life so I might as well get used to it now. Besides the bulk of the guards haven't retreated into the keep yet so if we slip in now we can reach Jarl Flogar without having to fight the entire town guard."
"Make sense I guess, but what happens when the guards do retreat into the keep?"
"They will have us to deal with in the front and your family and my army at their backs. I don't expect them to last long."
"Your plan does ensure that we see ensue a lot of chaos. The Jarl's palace it is then."
As Tharic and Droath made their way to the palace, Tharic could feel his strength returning, he had never even attempted such a spell on such a grand scale before. His mother always warned him of the dangers of overcharging spells and the unpredictability they could bring.
Towards the palace Tharic saw the destruction that had befallen Falkreath, as the town guards fought what was obviously a losing battle the people of Falkreath could do nothing but scream in terror as blood fell as rain does. Men and woman were being slaughtered in the streets, Tharic watched as it happened and as he did he found that he felt very little for the poor souls. He knew that not all were to blame, not all accused his mother but none came to her defence either and Tharic believed that not speaking out or killing his mother themselves, there was no difference.
But he found that he could no longer watch the fate of Falkreath unravel before his eyes and turned his gaze away focusing on the one man that he knew he was going to enjoy killing tonight, the Jarl.
Tharic and Droath were near the palace, the doors were in reach Tharic half expecting the doors to be barred from the inside and his assumptions were correct. Droath looked shocked but not all that surprised.
"Weird, I would have assumed that the guards would have waited for the rest to retreat before barring the doors, guess the Jarl only cares about saving his own ass."
"Then how do we get in Droath?"
"As much as I would like to simply blow the doors up, the plan is stealth and blowing crap up is not what you would call stealthy. We need another point of entry."
"Are there any back doors or windows."
"Back doors? No, this is the only door in and out of the keep and the closest windows are ten feet off the ground."
"Then what?
"We can use the windows but we will need to climb a building and jump."
"Great…."
Tharic was less than happy about jumpy through a window ten feet of the ground but realised there was little choice."
"Besides, now that we know the doors are barred we need to get in there and open them."
Tharic and Droath made their way to the next building which was the barracks, not much in the way off a building but it was tall enough and the only building next to the keep. The barracks were old and almost to the point of run down, the Jarl had clearly not invested any of his coin into improving the security of his city.
Tharic and Droath had made it to the roof of the barracks and could see the nearest window in view, it was a red, blue and purple stain glass window, the design was that of the cities banner animal an elk. Tharic stood on the edge of the barracks; from the roof he could see all of Falkreath, he quickly turned his attention back to the window and wondered how jumping off a building and into a window was going to work.
"So Droath what do we do now?"
"What kind of stupid question is that? We jump."
"Jump? Through the glass? Not knowing what's on the other side?"
"Try not to get any glass in your eyes."
Droath, without hesitation grabbed Tharic by the arm, Tharic was taken by surprise, his heart began to race and sweat was dripping from his forehead, he had no desire to jump. Droath then swung around and threw Tharic with great force through the window. He could only close his eyes and wait for the window, Tharic heard stories that when you're under pressure in extreme situation, the world seems to slow down, but from his current experience he knew right away that was bullshit. The world speeds up.
Before another thought could run through his mind Tharic was already through the window and rolling on the stone cold floor of the keep, bits of glass had punctured his body but Tharic didn't have time to worry about the pain. Before he could even get up he saw Flogar, the Jarl of Falkreath, and his personal guards were already in pursuit, one guard was almost within striking distance and Tharic hadn't even had time to move.
As the guard raised his sword, he just collapsed on the floor, a dagger was sticking out from the back of his skull, and blood was spurting and oozing from the wound. Tharic looked up to see Droath standing in the arch way of the window she seemed satisfied with herself as the distance from the window was far, the throw in itself was impressive.
"Kill the intruders! I want their heads on spikes and mounted on the walls of my city, kill them! Kill them now!"
The Jarl ordered the bulk of his men to deal with Tharic and Droath while The Jarl and his personal guards retreated up the stairs to the higher levels of the palace.
Tharic rose to his feet and Droath made her way down from the window and meet him at his side. Tharic raised his hands and ignited them with his blue fire while Droath unsheathed her two weapons. One was a black sword that looked of ebony design, it had runes inscribed into it and the blade glowed with a red aura as Droath held it in her hand. The other was an axe; same as the sword in colour and ebony design, the axe also had engravings that glowed at Droath's touch.
The guards charged towards Tharic and he readied for his first blast of fire but before he could Droath lunged towards the guards, sword in one hand and axe in the other, Tharic just stood and watched in amazement at the degree of skill that Droath possessed. Droath twisted and turn dodging the attacks of the guards and following with her own. Her axe and sword seemed to work as one as, if they were not weapons at all but an extension of her own body.
Each swing of Droath's sword or axe brought another guard down and another and another but Tharic soon realized that Droath was beginning to become overwhelmed even with her superior skill. Tharic came up from behind Droath and scorched guards left, right and centre, with each flick of his wrist another guard went up in flames. Tharic found it surprising just how easy this was for him, was he this naturally good at combat or were the guard of Falkreath just inferior?
Droath found that she was equally impressed with the display of magic that Tharic wielded, he would burn them from a distance and if a guard came to close he would send them flying with invisible force. It wasn't long before they both found themselves surrounded by bodies, Droath's red and black armour was stained with blood, even more was dripping from her sword and axe, Tharic looked at Droath for a moment and didn't recognize her, what he saw was a truly gifted warrior.
"You know your way around a blade I take it?"
"You noticed? How sweet of you."
"Are all of the Brotherhood as skilled as you?"
"On a general scale no, but the brotherhood doesn't let incompetent idiots join either."
"No kidding."
"You wield magic as if it were second nature which is impressive for someone so young, a prodigy perhaps?"
"Never liked that word, a smug sense of superiority seems to follow with it."
"You sound a bit like Krex, a discussion for another time for now let's keep killing shall we?"
Tharic and Droath moved towards the stairs and proceed to advance to the upper levels of the keep; once they had made it to the second floor another battalion of guards were waiting. Tharic and Droath together easily dispatched them as they did the last group. Tharic found that these guards had to be of poor training as he himself had little and yet he was able to kill them easily.
"The Jarl should keep a few dozen guards for himself if he plans on staying alive, at this rate he won't have any left when we get to him."
To Tharic, it seemed that Droath wasn't worried at this point given her tone, it was one of arrogance and why shouldn't she be in such a mood. Droath was crushing guards as if they were butterflies.
Tharic paused of a moment to think.
"Droath shouldn't we wait for the others?"
"What's the point if this is all that stands between us and the Jarl we don't need backup. Besides I take it that killing the Jarl is going to be a moving experience for you and I am guessing you don't want to share that with a room full of killers."
"Fair enough."
"How do you plan on doing it anyway? Killing the Jarl I mean, do you have something special installed?"
"I hadn't thought about it to be honest, I wanted revenge but didn't think about how it would go."
"Good, leave it that way; a spontaneous reaction is more natural and says a lot about a murderer."
"I am no murderer."
"O sweetheart that's adorable, you arrange the death of an entire village and plan to kill a man, a Jarl no less and you still believe that you are no murderer. You may not have put your own hands to the throats of the people of Falkreath but you are their murderer none the less."
Tharic grew restless.
"Let's just kill the Jarl and be done with it."
"Yes we should get back to that shouldn't we?"
Droath had a spring in her step after their conversation, personally satisfied with making Tharic understand just who she thinks he truly is.
Tharic and Droath returned to the stairs and proceeded to the third and last floor, once there they found that the room was empty. It was a great dining hall with a table built to fit at least 30 people, at the far end of the room was the throne of the Jarl. Both Tharic and Droath were at a lost as there were no other doors and the only windows were intact.
Tharic flew into a rage.
"WHERE THE HELL IS THE JARL?"
Tharic stormed all over the hall setting everything he saw on fire, he was contempt with burning down the whole palace of Falkreath, until Droath spoke.
"Okay let's think about this for a minute, no doors and the windows are too high up which means there is a concealed door in the hall somewhere."
Droath started to walk along the walls of the dining hall checking for any sign of a hidden lever.
"Nope nothing on the walls, wait… O Jarl Flogar, how original."
Tharic watch Droath as she approached a single bookshelf.
"How do you know it's the bookshelf?"
"Because the library was on the second floor, this is the only bookshelf in this big ass room and not many people know this but the Jarl can't read, so why would he have books in the room where he spends most of his time?"
"The Jarl can't read?"
"Yeah, he is a bit of an idiot"
"But I saw him read a scroll of paper when my mother was burned."
"No, he pretended to read from it, he memorizes what he is going to say beforehand. He does it all the time, makes people think he can read."
Searching among the books Droath at last found the book she was looking for and gave it a pull. From that the book case swung open and revealed a hidden corridor. The corridor was dark and barely lit, the grey stone walls weren't at all inviting.
"Well Tharic, let's go kill us a Jarl."
Tharic and Droath continued down the dank corridor, it seemed that there was no end to it but then the two started to hear voices, only just an echo but it was clear, the Jarl was close. The Jarl could be heard yelling at his guards, demanding that they get him out of Falkreath and to the nearest hold but the guards explained that the only way out was the corridor they came through. The Jarl was worried and grew nervous never had he thought that he would be killed in his own house.
Tharic and Droath stopped just before exiting the corridor they could see that it had lead them to a great porch that gave a view of all of Falkreath from the third level.
"So Tharic should we sneak up and kill them by surprise?"
"No the Jarl should know who is going to end his miserable life."
And with that Tharic stepped out for the shadows and confronted the Jarl and his remaining personal guards on the great porch, the mage and the assassin stood firm in front of the Jarls men. The guards stood their ground but were moving inches away, nervous at the sight of both Tharic and Droath.
"NO I WONT LET YOU KILL ME IN MY OWN HOUSE, GUARDS KILL THEM BOTH, KILL THEM NOW!"
The Jarl was furious and with his request the remaining guards charged but theses guards were no more skilled than the rest, Tharic and Droath quickly killed them with eased. As the last guards fell, the Jarl could do nothing but watch the two make their way closer towards him.
"Wait, stop; please don't kill me."
The Jarl was on his knees in tears, the last resort of a desperate man.
"Wait elf, I have gold, lots of gold kill the mage and let me live and you can have all the gold you desire. A simple favour for an old nord."
"Sorry Jarl the brotherhood doesn't do favours, clean up when you're done Tharic."
Tharic stepped forward, his hands were shaking with anticipation and glowing with bright blue fire, he could feel the heat on his face from his hands and Tharic at last had what he wanted.
"Tharic? Yes I know you, I burned your witch of a mother and you attacked me in the street. I offer the same deal to you; kill the assassin and all the gold you could ever desire will be yours."
"No amount of gold can bring my mother back or heal my pain; only your blood can do that Jarl Flogar."
Tharic raised his hands but the fire disappeared, his hands started to pulse with an invisible energy and it rippled through the air. As Tharic raised his hand the Jarl lifted off the ground. Flogar was choking and coughing up blood, as he dangled in mid-air he tried for one last plea for his life.
"Please, mercy."
"The kind of mercy you should my mother?"
"It was a mistake I see that now, please I am sorry for what happened."
"Sorry doesn't bring her back."
"Please don't kill me, I have a family."
"So did she."
"Please don't."
As Tharic looked into the eyes of a weeping man his grip on the Jarl loosed. Florgar was hanging just before the edge of the porch.
"Fine Flogar, I won't kill you."
"O thank you thank you, bless you heart"
But Tharic's grip on the Jarl's throat once again tightened, he stepped forward and the Jarl was now over the edge of the porch.
"The thirty foot drop is what's going to kill you."
The grip on Flogar throat was released and so was he, he fell from the tower screaming and cursing all the way down until there was only silence. Tharic stood as a statue does, lost in thought, his vengeance was done and now he found himself alone. His revenge was his only company, the only thing that kept him going.
"The Job is done."
The voice of a child rang from behind Tharic and Droath, their stood the vampire and the rest of the brotherhood assassins.
"Speaker."
Droath returned to the rest of her brothers and sisters and the vampire stepped forward.
"And so here we stand, a town lies in fire, drowned in its own blood and you have the death of the man you sort."
"Do you have a point or are you just being dramatic?"
Tharic was not amused by the vampire's words wished for a quick explanation.
"My point is, now what? Did you ask yourself that?"
"I don't know, I hear Hammerfell is nice this time of year."
"(Laughs) Amusing little thing aren't you, so you plan to leave?"
"I've got nothing left here."
"But what if you did, what if you had another family here in Skyrim? A family that can give your life a sense of purpose and direction."
"What are you talking about; my mother was the last family I had."
The vampire child smiled as she prepared her next words.
"Family isn't always blood. You display a remarkable talent for magic and violence and so I would like to extend an invitation for you to join are little family, the Dark Brotherhood."
The vampire came ever closer to Tharic, baring a grin which displayed her white fangs that shone in the moonlight.
"Become an assassin, travel to new and exciting places, meet different and interesting people and then kill them. You have skill, skill that I would see nurtured and grown. Would you like to join are family?"
The vampires question came at a shock, never had Tharic pitched himself as a paid killer, it was a life style that not many take and even few succussed in. But Tharic found the thrill of the hunt exhilarating; he enjoyed killing Flogar, making him scream and cry, giving him false hoping before ending his life. Tharic had his answer.
"Yes."
The grin on the vampire widened, she extended her hand and Tharic meet with his own.
"Welcome to our family brother."
"Honoured and by the way vampire, you never told me your name."
"O gosh your right, how incredible rude. Allow me to formally introduce myself; my name is Babette, Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood."
"Tharic Heartrage, a pleasure."
As Tharic and his new family began to leave, someone sneezed, the brotherhood turned around to see a child walk out from behind a statue. The child bared a remarkable resemblance to Jarl Flogar, he had brown hair and blue eyes and couldn't be older than 5.
"I'll deal with this."
Tharic walked up to the child, got down on one knee and stared the child straight into his eyes.
"Only the Jarls children are allowed to be in the keep aren't they?"
The boy nodded.
"Have you ever killed anyone?"
The boy shook his head.
"Well you better keep it that way or I will come back for you. Understand?"
The boy stood still, staring into Tharic's eyes.
"The only person I am going to kill is you."
Tharic saw the burning rage in the boy's eyes, the same rage that he once had in his heart.
"Well….. come back and see me in a few years and we will see how that goes."
Tharic turned and left the boy in the palace, knowing one day he will see him again.
To be continued….