The hand of fate

Drip, drip, drip. The steady trickle dripped down from the dungeon's ceiling. The room was beyond cold, and he lay in nothing but the sack cloth clothes of peasants. The air was damp and moldy, it's smell screamed of rat feces, and of the dead carcass of the animals that produced it. Yet not a one of these things awakened the unconscious man lying on the cold stone floor.

That honor alone belonged to the gaunt figure in the cell across from him.

“Hey you, you'll want to be waking up won't you?” the pale Dunmer's voice echoed off of the stone walls.

The figure on the floor jerked awake, and rose up on unsteady legs. Long greasy hair hung down in his face, his blue eyes peered out from their sockets to look at the dunmer across from him.

“About time you woke up isn't it?” The dark elf sneered at him, “Look at you, what are you anyways? Blond hair blue eyes, Too scrawny to be a barbarian, Does your mother even know where your father was from when he saw her at the [censored] house? Not like it matters much, because your going to die in here”

For a second he produced no sound and just stared at the dunmer, his blue eyes stared icily at the elf. His dungeon mate shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Finally he opened his mouth “Whats your name Dunmer, no wait it doesn't matter. If the guards come to kill me, they'll find you dead. Except they won't find all of you, I think I'll keep something for a memento of our conversation today”

He had so much more to say, but then he heard a sound from down the hall way. There were people talking down the hallway, there torches illuminated the dungeon. The light fell on the dunmer across the room from him, he silently marked his face as he listened to the voices.

“It's just this way sire,” the voice was feminine and held authority, he instantly disliked it.

“Are my sons dead?” this voice was older, it quavered with its age, but there was something underneath of it, it was a sound that got things done.

“We don't know Anything else sire, the messenger only said they were attacked” This one was younger and as he spoke the group came around the corner and he looked at them. The first thing he noticed was the long swords at the guards hips, they bobbed beside them as they walked, the next was the armor they war. It was unlike the armor worn by the guards of the imperial city, or even the militia of the county watch. As the three of them walked toward him he almost didn't notice the frail old man limping between them.

“No, no they are dead”, the old man insisted

The lead guard, the woman who spoke with authority, looked into the room outraged, “What is this prisoner doing in here?”

One of the other guards replied hastily,” The usual mix up with the watch I guess...”

The woman replied “Never mind him, You prisoner stand over there by the wall and stay still, you might live through this, but we won't hesitate to kill you if you get in our way”.


He shrugged, and walked back to the window, he let his gaze bounce back and forth between the guards and the old man. The old man regarded him with his deep eyes.

"You, I've seen you before,let me see your face, its you the one from my dreams.” The old man came in closer and, his eyes seemed to look past him “Then the stars were right and this is the day...gods give me strength.” the old man's gaze came back in to focus “ Tell me what is your name?”

The young man against the wall thought quick, he closed his eyes, “My name? Well...,” his eyes opened “ you may call me Furtim, and can you tell me what is going on here?”

“Assassins attacked my sons, I'm next, My blades,” he motioned to the trio behind him,” they are leading me out of the city along an escape route through the prison. By chance that route is in this cell.”

Furtim got the feeling that this old man was someone important, “ Who are you?”

The elderly man didn't disappoint and answered “ I am Uriel Septem, your emperor, and by the grace of the nines I rule Tamriel, you are a citizen of Tamriel and you will serve here in your own way before you are done.

Furtim looked at Uriel, “ you want me to serve the empire, do you even know why I'm in here?”

Uriel met his eyes “It matters not what you did to get in here, but what you will do to get out,” a smile broke across his tired face, “Maybe the gods put you here for us to meet?”

Sire, we must move on,” the woman said. Furtim looked in amazment as she pressed a brick in the wall. The entire right side of the wall slid over to reveal a musty smelling entrance.

Uriel looked over at Furtim, “Come with us,” With that the emperor and his guards, no his blades, walked into the gloom leaving Furtim to stare after them. After a pause he walked into the darkness with the feeling that he might be walking into his tomb.


* * *

Chapter 2
Every journey begins with one step

Furtim walked with a familiar gait. His long legs carried him swiftly into the darkness. Except it didn't stay dark for long. Ahead of him a flickering light lit the stone corridor. They stood there waiting for him.

The woman looked impatiently at him as he drew in closer to the four of them, “Lord Uriel requests you come with us, Prisoner,”. Except it didn't sound like a request, It sounded like nobody will miss you down here if you disobey, Prisoner. It seemed the rest of the blades held a similar position about the matter as he looked at them one by one.

The woman nodded to the others and they began their descent into the escape route. The first corridor led down a set of stone stairs. These stairs opened out into a larger room. Furtim studied the architecture around him, the walls looked ancient, and the air smelled stale. This room had another set of stairs that led to a door. A balcony opened up to the right of the door way at the bottom of the stairs.

He wondered when the last time the anyone had been down here. Furtim was feeling short of breath as he followed the blades and their king. His vision began to swim and he almost collapsed at the second set of stairs. Whatever illness haunted his body would have to be cured fast, or his freedom might not last long.

As he caught himself against the wall, he didn't notice the assassins until they they leaped from the hidden second level of the room. The woman in the lead didn't notice them at all. The first assassins fell silently to the ground in front of her bringing down his mace. Furtim heard a dull thunk as the mace smashed in her helmet. She crumpled in a heap at the base of the stairs.

That dull THUNK woke him up. The two remaining blades drew their swords as another assassin joined his comrade on the ground. Furtim looked around he felt a dull ringing in his ears as he bent over to grab a chunk of stone that had broken off of the wall. He raised his makeshift weapon and cocked his hand back to his jaw. The lead assassin ignored the blades and went strait after the emperor. Furtim hurled the stone at the assassin as he ran up the stairs. It struck it's target in the face mask of his helmet. The stone knocked the assassin back down the stairs.

Furtim looked down the stairs and saw not an assassin in a suit of armor, but what a appeared to be a monk in blood red robes laying at the base of the stairs. The monks neck lay at an impossible, broken angle. The other would be assassin lay dead in the door way to the next room.

Furtim walked swiftly down the stairs, looking at the man he had just killed. This man wasn't the first, wouldn't be the last, and at the moment he might have something that would keep his killer alive.

Furtim reached down and felt around the mans belt until he found a pouch tied to his hip. He then opened the pouch and pulled out two small glass bottle, it was amazing the fall hadn't broke them open, and placed them into his own pant's pocket.

Furtim went back to the body, he could feel the blades eyes on his back as he did this particular ritual, and found what he was looking for in the folds of the assassins sleeve. He pulled out a long thin blade. In Vardenfell they had called the knife a stiletto. He slipped the knife into his belt loop and rose up onto his shaky legs.

“Why don't you give me the knife prisoner.” this was the the Brenton blade.

Furtim felt the familiar heat of anger brighten his face, “No, I think ill keep it, I just saved the emperor, and when I have to do it again I think I'd rather have something to defend my self with.

"Enough!” The emperor's voice commanded, “Glenory, this man has saved my life, we can trust him.”

“Yes sire,” Glenory bowed, and looked over at his fallen companion, “The captain is dead sir, we must hurry” Glenory turned to the ancient door, kicking the assassin's body out of the way, and opened the door into the next room.

I have a weakness for Oblivion, and stories that stay within striking distance of the game, so I enjoyed this. Always nice to see the view of another character in fairly familiar surroundings. You gave us a feel for your character without over dumping at all on the info. Nice level of detail that provides a good richness to the ambiance. Good on ya!

I read chapter 1. I say, even though I know what the plot is, you have done a good job with your character. The main thing is that you have a lot of grammatical errors. Those shouldn't be to tiring to fix.

I agree with Acadian. It was all familiar but you gave it your own twist. Nicely done. :goodjob:

You might want to have a look at some of the spelling though. A couple that sprung out:
Glenory = Glenroy
dunmer = Dunmer
from there sockets = from their sockets
son's = sons (plural)
Sire we must move on" = "Sire, we must move on,"
He raised his makeshift weapon and cocked his hand back to his jaw I think that's an awkward way of throwing. Unless of course it's a bit like the Olympic sport where they put a iron ball near their jaw, spin and hurl.
Enough!" = "Enough!
Brenton = Breton
My love for Morrowind rang an alarm bell here: Vardenfel = Vvardenfell
it's smell = its smell (possesive)

This is good, you've done well with your character and an awesome job with your cell experience. Don't be afraid to keep that great personalization up that you started with.

First off Thank you for the encouragement Acadian, woolymammoth45, and mALX1. Also A big thank you to Remko, you made spell checking this a lot easier


* * *

Chapter 3

"Here Prisoner, you can hold this torch. My name is Baurus.", the redguard said this with a slight smile on his face "You might as well be doing something useful"

"Um...Yeah, might as well,". Furtim reached out to except the torch, trying to keep his traitorous hands to remain steady. When the torch was lit the group continued forward down the passage. The next set of rooms was a blur, the old stone rooms bleed together in his mind.

The next room to stand out had one door and a pair of balconies flanking them. Furtim glanced nervously at these balconies trying to find some movement, maybe their focus above them, is why the next attack wasn't seen by the group till it was in their face.

Glenroy opened the door into the next passage when the ambush happened. When the door was halfway open there was SMACK as the door was kicked open, a blood red warrior sprang out, swunging a mace at Glenroy's face.

As the first man attacked Glenroy, another two jumped down from the balcony on the left. Barrus attacked the first one, meeting his katana against deadric mace. That left the last one.

Furtim saw him and drew the stiletto. The assassin never even looked at him as he went to flank Barrus. As Furtim came forward with the knife, he wondered why it felt so heavy, and why his arm moved so slow.

He almost didn't make it. The assassin held the mace with both hands and held his mace over his head. Furtim was behind him, his training taking over. He held the blade facing the outside of his hand, and brought it down into the assassin's neck. He pulled the knife out and stabbed again. He wrapped his free hand around the the assassin and threw him onto the ground where he lay still. Moments later his armor vanished.

Uriel stood back at a safe distance. When the fighting was over he shuffled over to Furtim. "You fight well."

"Yeah" Furtim bent over reaching for his fallen torch. The flames cast an odd light over Uriel Septem.

"They cannot understand why I trust you. They've not seen what I've seen. How can I explain? Listen. You know the Nine? How They guide our fates with an invisible hand? ," Uriel looked at him as they followed the blades into the next room.

"Never been one for religion, seemed like a way to control people."

Uriel looked disappointed "I've served the Nine all my days, and I chart my course by the cycles of the heavens. The skies are marked with numberless sparks each a fire, and every one a sign. I know these stars well, and I wonder?which sign marked your birth?"

"I was born under the sign of the thief, ironic I suppose,"

The emperor's face remained serious, "The signs I read show the end of my path. My death, a necessary end, will come when it will come."

Furtim paused, his doubts began to leave him, "You've seen your own death?"

"Yes I've seen it written in the stars,"

Furtim fixed his icy eyes onto the emperors face, "Aren't you afraid to die?".

"No trophies of my triumphs proceed me. But I have lived well, and my ghost shall rest easy. Men are but flesh and blood. They know their doom, but not the hour. In this I am blessed to see the hour of my death?To face my apportioned fate, then fall."

Furtim looked at the elderly face of his emperor, and he didn't look scared, he just looked tired. Furtim held his opinion back, but knowing the hour you died seemed like one of the cruelest curses you could carry.

The door at the end of the hallway opened up into a vast room, its ceiling rose high, cracks in it let in slim slivers of beautiful sunlight. In this hellish route it seemed like a wonderful blessing.

A wooden chest sat in a little cubbyhole hole built into the wall. It looked lonely so Furtim decided to give it a little bit of attention. His search payed off. Inside of the chest there was a small sack of stones that glittered beneath his torch, and a single lockpick. Along with it was a quiver with around twenty four arrows. Pulling them out he saw how worthless these were. The shafts were rotten, and the iron of the arrow heads was rusted. He set them back in the chest and walked back over to the small group.

They had stopped. Given the circumstances it seemed stupid to just be just be standing around facing a rusty iron gate.

"Dammit! The gate is barred from the other side! A trap!" The two blades drew their weapons.

The younger one scanned the far side of the room, "What about that side passage back there?"

"Worth a try! Let's go!" Furtim heard Glenroy shouting this as he charged at the side passage. His head was still swimming, and his vision began to spin. He staggered after them as they went into the small side passage.

" It's a dead end. What is your call, sir?" Baurus looked expectantly at his superior.

The other man tensed, he turned toward the door. "They're behind us! Wait here, sire". Glenroy and knocked Furtim over as he shoved past him and ran back into the previous room.

Baurus hauled him back onto his feet, "Wait here with the Emperor. Guard him with your life,". Baurus looked at him before running off to join his comrade.

"I can go no further. You alone must stand against the Prince of Destruction and his mortal servants. He must not have the Amulet of Kings! Take the Amulet. Give it to Jauffre. He alone knows where to find my last son. Find him, and close shut the jaws of Oblivion." Uriel shoved something into Furtim's hands.

He was shocked, and he had every right to be. The was a grinding sound, and behind the emperor a man leaped out, Another assassin. Furtim's hand finds the handle of weapon. He draws it up and steps forward. Except...it isn't fast enough. Uriel never saw the man who killed him, his eyes were still looking at Furtim.

His arm shoots forward, the knife is an extension of his arm. He is unaware of the primal scream he makes when he stabs the red cloaked man. His vision darkens as he repeatedly stabs the assassin. He stands up as he hears someone approaching from behind him.

"No?Talos save us...". Baurus turns to Furtim, "We've failed. I've failed?The Blades are sworn to protect the Emperor, and now he and all his heirs are dead. The Amulet, where's the Amulet of King? It wasn't on the Emperor's body". He eyes don't accuse Furtim as he lifted up his hand. It still held what the emperor had given him.

"Is this it?" Furtim felt a sense of shock at how hoarse and raspy his voice is, it sounded brittle. "He gave it to me before he," Furtim pointed at the figure laying in a pool blood, its borders slowly spreading, "jumped out and stabbed him."

"Strange. He saw something in you. Trusted you. They say it's the Dragon Blood, that flows through the veins of every Septim. They see more than lesser men. The Amulet of Kings is a sacred symbol of the Empire. Most people think of the Red Dragon Crown, but that's just jewelry. The Amulet has power. Only a true heir of the Blood can wear it, they say. He must have given it to you for a reason. Did he say why?"

"He said to take it to Jauffre, and find his son. The rest of what he said didn't make much sense."

"Nothing I ever heard about. But Jauffre would be the one to know. He's the Grandmaster of my Order. Although you may not think so to meet him. He lives quietly as a monk at Weynon Priory, near the city of Chorrol." Baurus looked worriedly at him, "Chorrol is far away, and you don't look so good." Baurus searched the bag at his hip, and when he found what he was looking for he reached out to give it to Furtim. "Take this, it a potion of cure disease, you look like you need it more than I do."

Furtim graciously accepted the potions, "How do I get out of here Baurus?"

"Through that door must be the entrance to the sewers, past the locked gate. That's where we were heading. It's a secret way out of the Imperial City. Or it was supposed to be secret. Here. You'll need this key for the last door into the sewers."

"There are rats and goblins down there?but from what I've seen of you, your some kind of..."

"Assassin, it was a different time, but I can protect myself now." A slight smile flashed across his face.

"Alright then, when you get out of the sewers you must get the Amulet to Jauffre. Take no chances, but proceed to Weynon Priory immediately. Got it?"

"Yeah, but aren't you coming?"

"No, that's what they will be looking for, It'll be safer if you go by yourself. I would recommend staying off of the roads, but be careful. Why don't you go ahead and drink that potion, the sooner you do, the sooner it will start working."

Furtim looked at the glass bottle. He pulled the cork off of the top of it. The smell of mandrake filled his nose as he put the bottle to his mouth and swallowed. He grimaced at the bitter taste.

Furtim looked at the hole in the wall where the assassin had come through. He stepped through the secret exit. Looking over his shoulder he saw Baurus holding his sword, he stood over the emeror's body. At least I won't have to watch my back.

Ok, Furtim shows glimpses that he dislikes religion and bows and is an assassin. It will be interesting to see how the fellow with the icy eyes acts after he clears the sewars.
Based on this exchange, it should be interesting. Obviously, Furtim chooses to address the Emperor of all Tamriel as another guy in a bar. Too early to tell. I'm encouraged by the last sentence of the story. I look forward to seeing how/if what Furtim has experienced with Uriel & Baurus shapes him.



Keep working on the typo things, they are getting better - it is a constant challenge for all of us. Here are a couple that jumped out to me:
Furtim reached out to except the torch -- accept
old stone rooms bleed together in his mind -- bled
" It's a dead end. What is your call, sir?" Baurus looked expectantly at his superior. -- extra space after first "
Furtim fixed his icy eyes onto the emperors face, -- emperor's
Glenroy and knocked Furtim over as he shoved past him and ran back into the previous room. -- missing a verb of some sort after Glenroy
"Take this, it a potion of cure disease, you look like you need it more than I do." -- it is a potion
he stood over the emeror's body. -- emperor's

Well done! Good characterisation. :goodjob:
Glad I could be of help.

While I am at it, in this sentence I could see you were struggling with punctuation (at least, that's what it looks like).

Look at this:
"Here Prisoner, you can hold this torch. My name is Baurus," the redguard said this with a slight smile on his face. "You might as well be doing something useful."