User:Nikss/The Story Of Wrathen

The Story Of Wrathen

Sticky blood coated the finely honed dagger. The poor fool thrashed in the waters, his scales dissolving due to some miscast magic. His tail, however, wrapped around the assassin's leg, a feeble, involuntary attempt of drowning. The only notice the lithe Nord gave involved another Sphere of Negation, dissolving the tail efficiently, as if it was but packed salt in water.

"Pitiful, Haleen-Jei. I expected better." He put his cowl's mask on, muffling the last bit. Haleen-Jei rolled his eyes and promptly died, a last breath leaving his mouth. A spurt of bubbles left him. The magic strangulation worked perfect. Fool thought water would help him. Hmph He saw that last breath, Interesting

He bent dow and pocketed a piece of paper, secured by the now-dead hand of the Argonian. He smoothly opened it, careful not to rip the wet paper.

Argonian,

We find using a bounty hunter distasteful, but we think you may have a shot. Hircus Wrathen will be down in that pub in Winterhold. Once you see him down the road, attract his attention and lead him to the water, or take care of him your way. We don't mind. But bring us that evil son of a Daedra's heart back, or I WILL hunt you down, like him.

Gerrius Vittelius

Vigilant of Stendarr

He crumpled the note, and hurled it into the waters. Son of a Daedra? I see they guessed it quite close. He knew very well they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

He wandered back to the tavern, his cold professionalism melting into a drunken stupidity perfectly feigned. The guard saw him coming, drunk as a fish. Or so he thought.

"So, how was that drink with your old friend?", he drawled. Hircus smiled foolishly. "Oh, we drunk like water-starved fish, he almost drowned in it, and I had to literally slit his throat to stop him from dissolving!" He roared with laughter, joined in by the guard.

A few paces after the guard, he hurled a dagger at his throat. It found its mark perfectly. He kept walking. Once he reached the tavern, he left for the bed without a word to anyone, which wasn't too odd. No one felt like talking in that cold night.

Once he reached the room, he traced his finger over the daedric runes unseen to all, and they glowed faintly before fading into nothingness again.

He plonked down on his bed, a sudden, unnatural tiredness over him. He however, had not much complaint. Even a daedra-spawn had limits.

That last thought caused but a recollection, but not those seen by him.

The woman was fair and good-looking, a mane of blonde Nord hair as lustrous as silk flowing behind her, but a tinge of serious ferocity in her face nulled the infatuation most men felt towards her. She chanted the words over and over, each repetition causing the night to grow darker, until it felt as if the woman in her summoning circle of candles was nothing but a blot in a ocean. Rain pounded the ground, but spells beat water, and dark intentions beat both.

The spell was reaching its end, results were coming, for good or bad. Then, the earth rumbled. Creatures cawed, a purple vortex blew around her, and her eyes glowed deep purple, unlike the ice-cold blue usually seen.

"So, my dear champion, I see you bring me pleasure at watching your actions. I take pride. Be honored, for rarely do I feel so."