» Thu May 26, 2011 11:03 pm Also, I must have been drunk when i came up with the title... Too bad I don't drink
Chapter 1 - Arrival
The small cabin was dim, the only source of illumination a dim, flickering lantern suspended by a rotting rope from the ceiling. The entire room creaked as the waves rocked the ship, with the The lone occupant seemingly slept peacefully, with nothing more than the thin blanket covering the khajiit's soft feminine form. However, this peaceful exterior belied the nightmares she was suffering through.
There was an old man, flanked by three guards, but their arms and armor was far different from that she knew the legion to wear. It was rounder, and seemed to be made out of bands of metal as opposed to the solid, spiked plate of the legion. They were walking through some sort of tunnel, though the craftsmanship of the architecture was unlike any she had seen before, even in its state of disrepair.
Her angle of the vision changed, she was now behind two scarlet-robed men, though she could not see their faces. They were watching the procession, silently, poised to strike. She wanted to call out to the four, but she was formless, just an observer. She was helpless as the men's forms changed, armor as dark as the evil in their intent wrapped itself around them as vicious weaponry forged itself from nothing. They lunged at the old man, the guards barely reacting in time to save him. The bloodshed that followed horrified her, and when it was over, she saw that not all the guards had survived. One of them, the female captain, was lying face-down, her armor shredded by the unnatural weapons of the attackers, lying in her own blood. The survivors did not stop, though she heard distressed voices amongst the two surviving guards, she did not understand what they said.
She seemed to follow the three as they made their way deeper through the tunnel, more catious than before. However, her fleeting angles of the visions spared her from more death and gore, though she saw that multiple others of these unknown assailents had been dispatched. Apparently, these guards were most elite, as she could see that none of the survivors sustained any more injuries after the first ambush. Eventually, they arrived at a room that appeared to be a dead end. From her angle, she could see that the only door out of the room was barred from the side opposite of the trio.
What happened next horrified her, as a great number of the assassins materialized out of nowhere, and charged the man and his guards. They were stuck fighting a losing battle, as they had to ensure that their charge was as well-protected as they were. They fought themselves against the relentless tide into a corner, where the guards could keep the old man safe while fighting off the attackers. No longer struggling to keep the enemy away from their charge, they let loose against the assassins.
It seemed everything would work out fine, when the alcove behind the three suddely slid away, another assassin leapt out at the guard's charge. The unwilling observer managed to get a clear view of a bosmeri face through the helm, as he turned to block the blow at the emperor. Unfortunately, two other assassins in front of him cut him down during the distraction, their daedric blades slicing through his armor like mud. The one from the alcove impaled the emperor on a dagger, as the only surviving guard struggled against the impossible odds. Rather than join in the fight, the assaillent stole the necklace from around the emperor and took off.
The sole survivor reacted quickly, turning around and cutting the legs out from under the fleeing assassin. The amulet flew from the hand of the dying man, into a rat pack. The rats scattered, taking the amulet with them. Though she knew the guard did not know which rat had the ruby-jeweled amulet, she found herself unwillingly following it through a crack in the ruined infrastructure, into a dark, passageway composed of broken flagstones and cracking conventionally-worked stone. The rat scrambled across a rough bridge, and giving its observer a stomach-flipping view of the putrid content of the canol beneath it. The dream faded as a crudely-crafted arrow struck the rat.
The khajiit finally managed to awaken, wishing she had not seen what she was forced to observe. She wished it was nothing but a bad dream, but it was a vision she could not ignore. Tashiir sat up in her bed, casting the light blanket off of her as she tried to clear her mind of the vision. The pale light streaming through the cracks in the cabin wall told her it was now morning, and the ship would be arriving in Anvil soon. She took a few minutes to preen herself, as it wouldn't do to waltz into the Anvil Mage's Guildhall smelling like a shipwreck. After she was sure she was quite clean, she stood up slowly, trying to balance against the swaying of the ship. She took a few ginger steps toward the dresser on the far side of the room, and pulled out deep red robe of the thinest silk. She wrapped the cloth around her form, the light weight and texture of the garment being so fine that she actually had to visually check herself to make sure that she didn't reveal anything she wasn't supposed to.
Tashiir worked dilligently on her appearance, in order to make a good first impression. This was her day to join the mage's guild, and she knew that Carahil was a difficult woman to impress. She placed the mirror on the dresser, so she could use both hands to tweak the subtleties of her appearance and still see what she was doing. Her short hair was pulled together into a jeweled headdress, turning her scalp into a bright array of color. Each golden tab of the headdress had been polished carefully, so that there were no scratches, smudges, or any other blemish on the mirrorlike surfaces. She carefully picked out two sets of jemmed earrings, one saphire-on-silver to match the color of her deep, mysterious blue eyes, and one crimson-on-gold, to match the colors of her robes. It took a few seconds of fishing around through the dresser to find the perfect amulet. She ended up chosing a double-plated ornament, with the inner plate crafted of fine silver with a large saphire core, etched with beautiful Ta'agran runes around the edges, the outer plate was gold, with a ring of ten small rubies forming a circle.
With everything above the neckline taken care of, Tashiir selected her two most colorful rings to wear on her fingers. Usually she wore as many as ten, but today she her goal was to appear elegant, not extravagent. She slid the rings onto her fingers, and took a final appraisal of her appearance. All was great, except... the khajiit stifled an embarrassed giggle as she realised her robe was hugging her petite curves a bit too tightly, revealing the presence, though not detail, of two piercings and rings that she generally did not display to the rest of the world, especially not to the pinacle of upright, dignified, prudish decency in all Cyrodil. Glad she caught the faux pas before she left the privacy of her cabin, she spent the next minute finageling with the robe top, eventually only partially succeeding. She was left with no choice but to take the rings out if she wanted to be taken seriously, and reluctantly opened her robe top again to remove the offensive jewelry. Covering herself up again, she pulled out the neccessary paperwork she needed to get off the boat. She skimmed over the immigration forms, and content that all details were in order, stood up, emptied the dresser into her travel pack, and strode into the door.
It took Tashiir a few seconds to realise that she failed to open the door, and she giggled nervously as she was thankful that yet again she only messed up in her quarters, not in public. The second time, she opened the door, into the narrow corridor that lead up to the deck. Once outside, she breathed in the salty ocean air, basking in the gentle sea breeze. Glad to be out of the confining ship hold, she headed down the bridge, to be interrupted by an imperial voice.
"Well, don't you look nice?" the voice said admiringly, causing her to turn to look at the Legion official as he continued, "I still need your paperwork. The law is blind, and does not make exceptions for beautiful kiities."
Tashiir smiled at the flattery, handing the guard her forms. "Sorry, here they are," she said timidly, her voice jumping half an octave as she spoke.
The imperial took his time, spending roughly half of it checking over the paperwork, but spending just as much time looking at the subject of the paperwork. At great length, he turned to her and said, "Okay, everything appears to be in order, welcome to Anvil." The khajiit thanked him politely, and headed down the gangplank, into the city.
