» Mon May 02, 2011 3:28 am As he walked among the old, dusty shelves, the small orc wondered why no one was here. It was only 4:00 in the afternoon, and all the lights were on. So why was he all alone? Of course, being the only red orc in the realm didn't help much in gaining friends, along with his tendency to fly into a rage if someone makes fun of him for it.
He had grown up in the Imperial City, living either on the streets or the cells. He was a beggar, and as such, he didn't have much choice but to steal in order to make a living. His orcish pride never let him even consider the prospect of living off the money the Grey Fox gave to the beggars. That would mean being lesser than someone else, and he had vowed to never be in someone's debt.
His thievery was the reason he was in this old library in the first place. He had heard rumors of an ancient tome of great value, but the way to it was guarded by fearsome beasts and spirits. He had taken care of said "beasts" by simply sneaking past them. He'd get rid of them once he had the book. However, he hadn't seen any spirits, nor even heard the whispers that sometimes told of their coming. So, here he was, Grunmar Gro-kel, master thief, wandering hopelessly in search of something that may not even exist.
After a few hours of fruitless searching, he sat down in a simple, wooden chair that was up against one of the walls. ""The Tale of Endrath Gro-Kash"" he grumbled. "Who would even want to read about some unfortunate half-dunmer, half-orc, bastard child? At least this job is going to pay well." At that thought, he was suddenly energized by the images of mountains of gold, or a beautiful new sword. However, upon rising, he accidentally knocked one of the shelves over. "Uh-oh" he said, dumbstruck by his won carelessness.
His stupor was short-lived, and he pulled out his dagger, God Slayer. The name and its bearer may not fit well to the naked eye, but there were so many enchantments upon the blade that it could slice through the hardest armor, and inflict burning and freezing pain at the same time, or paralyze you yet send your mind into a frenzy of rage.
As the trolls who were guarding the entrance came after him, he readied his shield, and prepared to fight for his life. Oddly enough, though, the trolls stopped when they came within striking distance, and gestured for him to follow them. Grunmar hesitated, but decided to go with them. Whatever the threat, he could handle it. They led him to a trapdoor that was previously covered by one of the shelves, and he climbed in. As he went down, he began to think to himself "Either I amd going to die here, or I will be the richest man alive."
When he arrived at the bottom, there was a great ghost standing in front of him. As he approached the ghost spoke, in a quiet yet deafening voice, saying "You really believed you could steal from me? The greatest mage who ever lived? No one has been able to get down here, I admit. I'm impressed, and it's a shame you'll never leave here. No, you won't die. However, I have a much more entertaining fate for you. Entertaining for me, at least. I condemn you to a life of constant study, always reading the stories and books within these halls, and even when your body passes away, your spirit shall cointinue reading, but never, NEVER, shall you discover a way to escape my clutches. That is stored away in the only book you shall never read, the story of my very existence, 'The Tale of Endrath Gro-Kash." Yes, Grunmar, I am that "half-elf, half-orc bastard child" you spoke of. Now, for your first book. "The Young Argonian Maid". Quite a fine piece of literature, if you ask me. Makes me laugh every time I read it, so I expect you to laugh quite a good bit. Now, begin!" Nothing happened. "I said read!"
As the ghostly figure looked around, he realized he was alone. All he found was a note on the ground where the orc was standing ust moments before.
"For YOUR first lesson: Never monologue while the enemy's goal lies in plain sight."
"Huh," the ghost grunted, "I've never read that in any of my books."
