» Fri Oct 17, 2014 12:59 am Hi Everyone
I wrote a short story as background for a mod. I'd appreciate any suggestions you might care to make - I've tried to keep it true to lore, or what I know of it.
Spoiler
In the undefiled time before his deprivations turned the people's hearts against him, Exalt-General Kharstaag, swollen with vainglory, ordered a cadre of his elite Warrior-Monks to bring the Fusion-Smith Torkas and his family to him.
Several nights later, his garrison adjutant informed him that the smith had arrived and was waiting in the armory, along with the other, and here the adjutant paused uncertainly, "items" he had requested. As was his habit, the Exalt-General meticulously questioned the adjutant about the items, ensuring that no element had been neglected.
Eventually satisfied, Kharstaag ceased his interrogation and strode towards the armory leaving a harried adjutant blinking in bewilderment at his commander's capacity for detail. Pausing at the door, he turned slightly to address the adjutant again. "You and the other men may join your battle brothers for the festival. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir", the adjutant scuttled away, relieved.
"Weaponsmith Torkas", the Exalt-General began grandly, the moment he entered the room. "I hope my men didn't inconvenience you. They were acting under my express orders and I had little choice but to ensure you arrived here with all due haste."
Torkas drew breath to protest but Kharstaag pushed on.
"You are the greatest weaponsmith to ever work a forge. You understand the secrets of melding alloys that no other smith can combine and of harmonizing the elemental properties of each so the weapon doesn't crack and warp under enchantment. I have brought you here so that you may forge me such a weapon."
"I doubt the significance of the ingredients arrayed before you on the table, and the phase of the moon have escaped your notice. I also have the Snow Elf restrained and stupefied in an antechamber in case you thought I may have forgotten that small detail. She is unblemished and perfect for our purpose."
At the latter comment, Torkas started to tremble. Pale with shock and acutely aware of the menacing shadows hulking at his periphery he grated out from clenched teeth: "What you ask will condemn me before the Gods and all Mer."
"You are merely an instrument. No one outside of this room need know of your participation in this affair. And as to your compensation - well, let me assure you that I have at my disposal the resources of the entire Empire."
Torkas, struggling to control the trembling, steadied his voice in defiance. "I will not do this."
"Weaponsmith, your wife and daughter are currently enjoying the best that Imperial hospitality can provide. And with your compliance, they will continue to do so. Should you defy me, I would find it necessary to exchange their present amusemants for ones more appealing to certain members of my staff. Specifically those who are normally engaged in the fine art of extracting information from those who would seek to keep secrets." And here he paused, intently observing the smith's slight slouch of shoulders and tenseness of jaw. Then softly, almost tenderly: "All must bow under the yoke of Glorious Imperium, Mastersmith. Even one whose talents are as valuable as yours..."
It was barely a year later that the garrison adjutant led Imperial Fusion-Smith Torkas into the dimly lit chambers of Exalt-General Kharstaag. Torkas stepped up to the end of the bed, peering into the gloom. The slightly irregular wheeze of breath unnerved him momentarily and as his eyes adjusted, he felt his skin prickle as he picked out the glitter of two eyes observing him, tiny lanterns flickering in sunken sockets.
"You sabotaged my weapon. How?" The hollow, cracked voice still retained the power of command.
"The enchantment I imbued your weapon with, was not quite the one you desired. Few aspects of mortals attract divine attention more than hubris, and you stood out like a beacon. It was a few days before your men arrived that Arkay visited me as I sought his blessing in the Great Chapel. He told me that you sought to use me and that I was to prevent you from the forceful misuse of a mortal soul. Of course, I understood little of what he said but he said if I were to defy you, you would make my family suffer greatly.
"Arkay allowed me to imbue a tiny fragment of his aspect into the elements with which I crafted the weapon. The Snow Elf escaped the hideous fate you intended for her. But, to convince you that I had indeed created the weapon you desired I had to bind to an arrangement a far more malevolent power. This power was perfectly balanced by Arkay's aspect and hence you noticed nothing amiss. And nor would you for some months when you noticed a pervading weakness of the body, a mind once keen as a diamond now inexplicably starting to collapse and decay. You weren't to know that every time you used the weapon in battle, as an excuse to replenish your fading vigor, the only life that was being leeched was your own and you were being tethered, ever more strongly, to the malevolent power of Mehrunes Dagon.
"Yes, the Prince of bloodshed and betrayal. I'm sure the irony is not lost on you - I see you're experiencing a rare moment of lucidity. It was an arrangement I had little difficulty in convincing Mehrunes Dagon of. And soon the deal will be complete. Then I will take the weapon and it will never again be seen with mortal eyes. And Mehrunes Dagon will receive his remittance - your soul."
Torkas, turned and walked slowly to the door. As his hand touched the latch a final question rang out.
"A pact with Mehrunes Dagon....How?"
"Exalt-General - your capacity to observe, absorb and execute is, or was legendary. But there was one detail that escaped even you. The day that you summoned me was Warriors Festival. Mehrunes Dagon's summoning day..."
Several nights later, his garrison adjutant informed him that the smith had arrived and was waiting in the armory, along with the other, and here the adjutant paused uncertainly, "items" he had requested. As was his habit, the Exalt-General meticulously questioned the adjutant about the items, ensuring that no element had been neglected.
Eventually satisfied, Kharstaag ceased his interrogation and strode towards the armory leaving a harried adjutant blinking in bewilderment at his commander's capacity for detail. Pausing at the door, he turned slightly to address the adjutant again. "You and the other men may join your battle brothers for the festival. Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir", the adjutant scuttled away, relieved.
"Weaponsmith Torkas", the Exalt-General began grandly, the moment he entered the room. "I hope my men didn't inconvenience you. They were acting under my express orders and I had little choice but to ensure you arrived here with all due haste."
Torkas drew breath to protest but Kharstaag pushed on.
"You are the greatest weaponsmith to ever work a forge. You understand the secrets of melding alloys that no other smith can combine and of harmonizing the elemental properties of each so the weapon doesn't crack and warp under enchantment. I have brought you here so that you may forge me such a weapon."
"I doubt the significance of the ingredients arrayed before you on the table, and the phase of the moon have escaped your notice. I also have the Snow Elf restrained and stupefied in an antechamber in case you thought I may have forgotten that small detail. She is unblemished and perfect for our purpose."
At the latter comment, Torkas started to tremble. Pale with shock and acutely aware of the menacing shadows hulking at his periphery he grated out from clenched teeth: "What you ask will condemn me before the Gods and all Mer."
"You are merely an instrument. No one outside of this room need know of your participation in this affair. And as to your compensation - well, let me assure you that I have at my disposal the resources of the entire Empire."
Torkas, struggling to control the trembling, steadied his voice in defiance. "I will not do this."
"Weaponsmith, your wife and daughter are currently enjoying the best that Imperial hospitality can provide. And with your compliance, they will continue to do so. Should you defy me, I would find it necessary to exchange their present amusemants for ones more appealing to certain members of my staff. Specifically those who are normally engaged in the fine art of extracting information from those who would seek to keep secrets." And here he paused, intently observing the smith's slight slouch of shoulders and tenseness of jaw. Then softly, almost tenderly: "All must bow under the yoke of Glorious Imperium, Mastersmith. Even one whose talents are as valuable as yours..."
It was barely a year later that the garrison adjutant led Imperial Fusion-Smith Torkas into the dimly lit chambers of Exalt-General Kharstaag. Torkas stepped up to the end of the bed, peering into the gloom. The slightly irregular wheeze of breath unnerved him momentarily and as his eyes adjusted, he felt his skin prickle as he picked out the glitter of two eyes observing him, tiny lanterns flickering in sunken sockets.
"You sabotaged my weapon. How?" The hollow, cracked voice still retained the power of command.
"The enchantment I imbued your weapon with, was not quite the one you desired. Few aspects of mortals attract divine attention more than hubris, and you stood out like a beacon. It was a few days before your men arrived that Arkay visited me as I sought his blessing in the Great Chapel. He told me that you sought to use me and that I was to prevent you from the forceful misuse of a mortal soul. Of course, I understood little of what he said but he said if I were to defy you, you would make my family suffer greatly.
"Arkay allowed me to imbue a tiny fragment of his aspect into the elements with which I crafted the weapon. The Snow Elf escaped the hideous fate you intended for her. But, to convince you that I had indeed created the weapon you desired I had to bind to an arrangement a far more malevolent power. This power was perfectly balanced by Arkay's aspect and hence you noticed nothing amiss. And nor would you for some months when you noticed a pervading weakness of the body, a mind once keen as a diamond now inexplicably starting to collapse and decay. You weren't to know that every time you used the weapon in battle, as an excuse to replenish your fading vigor, the only life that was being leeched was your own and you were being tethered, ever more strongly, to the malevolent power of Mehrunes Dagon.
"Yes, the Prince of bloodshed and betrayal. I'm sure the irony is not lost on you - I see you're experiencing a rare moment of lucidity. It was an arrangement I had little difficulty in convincing Mehrunes Dagon of. And soon the deal will be complete. Then I will take the weapon and it will never again be seen with mortal eyes. And Mehrunes Dagon will receive his remittance - your soul."
Torkas, turned and walked slowly to the door. As his hand touched the latch a final question rang out.
"A pact with Mehrunes Dagon....How?"
"Exalt-General - your capacity to observe, absorb and execute is, or was legendary. But there was one detail that escaped even you. The day that you summoned me was Warriors Festival. Mehrunes Dagon's summoning day..."
