OOC:Oooook. good to have an RP again. now, Ahem...

Ten years after the crisis of Oblivion and Mehrunes Dagon's exile to his own plane, The other Daedric Lords began to stir, arguing amongst each other as to who should take up Dagon's mantle until his power returned. Some, like the peaceful Azura, ignored the infighting, believing it to be beneath them. The fighting grew over the next year, and even the followers in the mortal realm took up arms against followers of the other Lords. Finally, annoyed and exhausted at trying to keep the peace, as well as seeking some real amusemant, Mephala called a meeting of the Lords, in the old realm of Jyggalag, which had remained unoccupied for centuries, and thus, would be a neutral place to meet. They, reluctantly, accepted the call, and came to hear what Mephala would say.

"So, you have all come! Excellent!" Mephala said, his merry voice reverberating throughout the crystallized landscape. He continued before the others had a chance to interrupt him,

"You have been fighting for the past year over who should rule in Dagon's stead until he recovers! This wasn't done for Sheogorath's departure, of course, as his essence remains trapped inside a mortal and when the mortal dies, He will rejoin us and resume control of his realm. As for the realm of Mehrunes Dagon, I grow weary of you all fighting amongst yourselves, and have decided to propose a solution, and it is this. I will choose several mortals at random, and they will be taken to a realm of your choosing. Should all of them perish inside one of the realms, whoever is in control of that realm shall earn Mehrunes Dagon's sphere of control, which will grant you his realm and his followers. If no one manages this, then whoever ended the most lives in their realm will win this test! Doesn't it sound amusing? Now, if you wish to take this challenge, then step forward!"

After this announcement, chaos erupted among the Lords as they decided amongst themselves who would take the challenge. many simply came forward without any argument, The first among them was Vaermina, followed immediately by Malacath. Others then followed, one at a time, until all but a few were standing before Mephala, ready to accept this challenge.

"Good. It is decided. Vaermina, as the first to decide, you will be the first. Now go, prepare your realm. I will find the mortals. When you are ready, you may bring them to your realm. Good luck!" He vanished with a wink, leaving behind manic laughter and the smell of drink. The Trials were about to begin.

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OOC: Some of the Daedric princes are vying for control of the realm of Mehrunes Dagon, and you have been randomly chosen to help them decide! Lucky you! Spots may be taken so hurry hurry and join today!

anyway, you are about to face the challenges that Vaermina has cooked up for you, and before you do, there are some rules that must be observed.

1. all Character sheets must be PMed to me for approval (don't worry Im not too uptight about what's in them)
2. obviously, no Ubering.
3. In this realm, Vaermina's will, portrayed my moi, is law. refer to my signature for details.
4. don't be afraid to give your character some issues, after all, Vaermina needs something to work with!

Have fun! if we start getting a lot of people wanting to join, there will end up being a waiting list. If you don't post for a while, I will entertain myself by staging a particularly gruesome death for your character, and whoever's next on the list will step in. That all? good. I'll post my sheet, and then anyone else who wants to join, just PM your sheets and we can get started once we have enough!

EDIT: forgot to mention a few things.
1. if successful, this will become a series, where Vaermina's trial is only the first. I think perhaps Hircine, Boethia, or Malacath will host the next one. I haven't decided.
2. If you have an idea for a potential situation, PM me about it, and I may try to implement it.
3. Rules for Vaermina's appearance to your character:
Vaermina will appear to each character individually, or not. and if she does, you are free to choose how she appears to you, as well as how much/ how little info she gives you. No more info than my character has recieved, however. only up to 3 extra tidbits besides the basic rules are allowed to be disclosed. Also, no matter where your character fell asleep, he/she(/it?) will appear in somewhere in Cyrodiil.


Characters being tested so far include:
Sae-Kas (myself)
Trannigan Drattmer (you have three guesses who)
Lycurgus (Tamira)
Eno (Dagoth_Gojira)

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Name: Sae-Kas

Race: Argonian

Age: 23

Height: approx. 6' 2''

Body type: thin and wiry, but still has noticeable muscles.

Skin color: Bright red, with purple specks and a light blue stripe down his forehead.

Eye Color: Red and purple, the amount of each varies (explained later)

"Hair": Spines (Oblivion style)

Birthsign: The Mage

Skills:
Blade (daggers, shortswords, and some longswords. claymores are out of the question)
Alteration (Above-average ability)
Destruction (average ability)
Sneak
Light Armor
Alchemy (average ability)

Talents: Skilled with shorter blades, as his wiry frames tends to lose balance when wielding heavier weapons. He also has an aptitude for casting magic, but his magical education has been limited to only destruction and alteration, which he prefers, not liking to complicate things with too much information. He's always had a talent for sneaking, but rarely uses it for anything but amusemant. Again limited by his body, he wears Light armor, and has grown quite accustomed to its use. Recently, he began training himself in alchemy and has found it both enjoyable and useful, but while he can mix a potion or two, he will never become a master of the art, as he treats it as more of a practical hobby than anything else.

Inventory: a silver dagger, a glass shortsword, various potions, a copy of the Lusty Argonian Maid, a hooded dark blue robe, Fine leather armor, and a necklace with a small oblong green gem; a gift from an old admirer

Personality: Sae-Kas tends to be serious, though can at times get a little snarky or sarcastic, always trying to hold back some cynical comment, and not always succeeding. He is distrustful of others, though can recognize when it is best to put that aside to work together with strangers. Those who win his trust will be held in the highest esteem, and those who break it had better want to have a few new scars. He tries to think before he acts, though can be impulsive when under a lot of pressure. He also suffers from a rare version of multiple personality disorder, which today would be known as dissociative Identity Disorder. his personalities are aware of each other, and often communicate with each other, much to his annoyance. any one of his personalities may take over control at any given time, causing him to become unpredictable and have wide shifts in his attitude.

Backstory: Despite his disorder, Sae-Kas lived most of his life so far rather well. the only exception is when, as a child, he was exploring the outskirts of skingrad, his home city, and was found by some necromancers that had been hiding in the abandoned caves nearby. He was taken into the caves, where they planned on turning him into one of their undead slaves. The rituals they used to attempt to bind his body were interrupted when an adventurer party entered the cave. the necromancers attacked them, but were slain. The men cut Sae-Kas free, and took him home to Skingrad, where they were hailed as heroes. Sae-Kas, however, never fully recovered mentally. Years passed. Sae-Kas, unable to stay so near the place where he had almost been zombified, he moved to the Imperial City, where he resumed his education. Chancellor Ocato took notice of him, as his scores with his studies were rather high. After meeting with him, he took Sae-Kas into the White Gold Tower, to become an advisor to the council. He is living there now, and by sheer bad luck, was chosen by Mephala to enter Vaermina's Dreamworld.


I will begin posting when others have joined. send in those sheets!

Name: Trannigan Drattmer

Race: Imperial

Age: 27

Height: approx. 6' 5"'

Body type: He is taller and of a more muscular build than most other Imperials. (Say that of a redguard, not quite that of an Orc though.) As such he is stronger and more able to take damage than most other Imperials, while not being as agile or quite as fast.

Skin color: Tanned with a slight redness to the skin. (Not sunburn either, just a slight redness in his complexion.)

Eye Color: Bright Green

"Hair": Oblivion styled 'loose' black hair, about 2 inches past the shoulders. Also a grown out black goatee.

Birthsign: The Warrior

Skills:
Blade (Nothing larger than a longsword though.)
Speechcraft (Since that is the ability to persuade people with words you guys can decide for yourselves how good he is when he speaks.)
Destruction (Very adept with shock spells and dmage fatigue spells, however the only other spell he knows is a weak fireball spell.)
Armorer (Average skilled)
Heavy Armor
Hand to Hand (Not great at it.)

Talents: He is best at using his longsword in his left hand while wielding shock spells in his right hand. He is more durable than the average Imperial thanks to his size but he is slower and more clumsy aswell.


Inventory: His longsword is based on an elven longsword, but has a black handle with jade green designes all along the handle; he also carries a silver dagger. His armor consists of an Orcish cuirass, boots and gauntlets, Ebony Greaves and an Imperial Horseman helm.

His clothes consist of a brown wool shirt and blacksmiths pants, aswell as wolf skinned moccasins and a dirty, dark green cowl. He carries with him a pack that has a few store bought health potions aswell as some dried venison and a bottle of ale.

Personality: Trannigan is confident in his abilities though sometimes he can be just downright arrogant and full of himself. He has been known to pick fights with individuals for various reasons, the main one being when someone insults him or insinuates that they are better then he is. He also tends to be quiet when in a group, which some people view that as him being a shady individual but he is usually just not a very chatty person unless in a good mood or drunk. However when he makes friends and learns to trust individuals he can be very friendly, and even very protective of them. He would gladly lay his life on the line to protect those he cares about. Tends to have respect for the beast races of Tamriel on account of where he grew up as a child, he also has a respect for Orcs, Nords and Redguards while disliking most Dunmer for their thinking they can use others as their slaves and male Bosmer as very tiresome to be near for too long. Altmer and Bretons he is indifferent about, as he respects the arcane power that they wield yet finds them to be of the most arrogant of all races. When Trannigan fights, he fights like a berserker, letting his emotions take over in the heat of battle. As such sometimes the bloodlust consumes him, and there have been times in the past where he attacks friend or foe alike. Unfortunately that bloodlust seems to be a family trait, affecting almost everyone in their bloodline and causing those around them to eventually shun them.

Backstory: Originally from his home land of Cyrodiil, Trannigan grew up in the city of Bravil, Trannigan figured out in his early teen years how much he liked doing tasks that let him use his natural talents, aswell as tasks that came with a payload; so he became a Mercenary. He then traveled the country for years doing most tasks he found that payed well enough, save for a few things that went against his moral code such as slavery or skooma/sugar smuggling. Although Trannigan did gain fame aswell as quite a bit of infamy in Cyrodiil he got the desire to travel around tamriel. He had been camping out deep in Elsewyre when one night after falling asleep, he 'awoke' to find himself summoned into Vaermina's dream world.

OOC: To help set the scene, attract interest, and alleviate my own boredom, I will make an introductory IC post.

IC:

Sae-Kas sat at his desk inside his quarters in White Gold Tower. The room was spacious, larger than he needed or wanted. He had simple tastes, and his room mostly reflected this. His bed was a mere cot with a mattress, a pillow, and a blanket. The chair he sat in wasn't ornately decorated as some of the other advisors had done, and his desk and shelves were free of personal items, as the only one he owned was around his neck. The rest of the room's space he had converted to training space. Against the wall there was a combat practice mannequin, and targets crafted to withstand magical attacks. the one chest he owned was filled with various pieces of alchemical equipment and ingredients, and was always kept magically locked, unless he was using its contents.

Sae-Kas briefly paused in his work to rub his eyes, which felt heavier than they should at this hour. He resumed his work, some report about the status of some military outpost, requesting supplies that probably couldn't be spared; much like the dozens before it. As he had done with those, he did with this one, writing his recommendations in a letter, enclosing it in an envelope with the report, and stamping his sigil on it. The work was tedious, but paid well. He was writing yet another form, He began hearing voices, whispering at the back of his mind. He ignored them, as this was a daily occurence. They steadily grew louder until he'd had enough. He mentally shouted, "All right! All of you! Be quiet for just a little longer so I can get this done! I can't concentrate when You're all going on like this!"

The whispers receded, but not the emotions that accompanied them. All day, they swarmed his head, but he had grown accustomed to it. He now could finally finish his work. When the last papers were sealed and placed in the outgoing basket outside his door, he sighed, undressed, hung his robe and armor on their respective racks, and went to sleep.

He felt a strange sensation, burning across his body. It started from his feet, and moved to upwards. As it rose, it grew worse. When it reached his head, it grew unbearable, so he opened his eyes, flung of his blanket, and whipped out the glass shortsword he kept hidden under his pillow (his one monetary indulgence). The second he did so, the burning ceased. But something was still wrong. For one thing, the color of light in the room had a greenish tint to it. he glanced at his sword and saw that instead of the usual green, the volcanic glass had turned blood-red. The light in the room failed to illuminate one corner, where he pointed his sword.

He slowly rose from his bed, eyes never leaving the corner. When he stood, two glowing red eyes appeared in the darkness. Sae-Kas immediately assumed a combat stance, sword and right hand (his favored hand for spells) at the ready. The eyes regarded him in silence, and neither moved for what seemed like hours. Finally, a voice broke the silence. "Sae-Kas... Welcome to my world." The voice was reminiscent of shards of glass scraping against one another, and was distinctly female.

"What are you?" he said, his voice level despite the circumstances. The temperature in the room dropped by a few degrees as the voice answered. "I have owned many names mortal. But the one most familiar to you is Vaermina."

Sae-Kas lowered his stance slightly. He quickly spoke without thinking, "So, the Daedric Lord of Nightmares has paid me a visit. You should have sent a letter, I would have prepared some tea." He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, but Vaermina's reaction was unexpected. Cold, harsh laughter erupted from the corner where the eyes still stared. They moved towards him, and a figure emerged, made entirely of darkness and vaguely akin to an atronach. It moved lithely, like a khajiit or a dancer.

"Now this is a surprise! A mortal with enough gall to show impudence to a Daedric Prince! Perhaps you will prove amusing after all." The figure stood with its hands on its hips, and continued laughing silently.

"What do you mean? Why have you appeared to me?" The figure cocked its head, and one eye grew larger, as though from a raised eyebrow.

"Typical mortal, assuming that because I appear to them it makes them special." The figure shook its head, both amused and annoyed. "You were chosen at random, and you are to prove yourself in, say, a challenge. I will tell you what is expected, as long as you don't interrupt me. As I said, you are in my world. I have made it similar to your own, so you shouldn't get too lost. Now, I know all of your fears, every little thing that unnerves you is revealed before me. You will face all of them here in this world. When the all of your fears are defeated, you will wake, and perhaps, if you prove amusing, I may leave a gift for you upon your success. Should you fail, then you will die. and if you die in this world, your physical body in the real world will as well. Do you understand all this? Because I'm not repeating any of it."

Sae-Kas had listened intently, and understood the stakes this Lord was playing. He looked at the shadow figure, who regarded him impassively. He said, "Yes. I understand your game. And I will win it." his face became determined, and he locked eyes with the shadow before him. It made the eyebrow-raising motion again and chuckled.

"Even now you are impudent? Good. Just for showing a little fire, I will tell you a few tips. First, your other personalities have split off of you. You surely must have noticed the silence in your mind by now? They have been spread throughout the path you must take, and each knows only where one other is. You must gather all of them back before you face the final challenge. Second, there is one of you here in this very city, seek him out, he will know where you must go. And Finally, You are not alone here. Others have been taken here, and should you wish to ally yourself with them, it will be both a blessing and a curse. Now, go. I hope the others have as much willpower as you, otherwise this may get boring quickly."

The figure dissolved into nothingness, leaving Sae-Kas alone in his room. He put on his armor and robe, rubbbed his necklace for whatever luck it was worth, and exited through the arched door into the Tower.


OOC: Woo, that was a long one! Vaermina will appear to each character individually, and you are free to choose how she appears to you, as well as how much/ how little info she gives you. No more info than my character has recieved, however. only up to 3 extra tidbits besides the basic rules are allowed to be disclosed. Ok? Also, no matter where your character fell asleep, he/she(/it?) will appear in somewhere in Cyrodiil.

Trannigan pulled out his fur from his pack, and proceeded to spread it across the warm sand of Elsewyre. Sitting down on the fur, he pulled a daedric dagger from the pack, and admired it against the bright moon light. The red streaks within the blade and hilt gently glowed in the darkness, and Trannigan slowly ran his finger across the sharp blade as he thought about the well equip Khajiiti bandit he had 'won' it from during the day. He had met the khajiit while in a nearby city, and the khajiit had been posing as a simple sword for hire, to show outsiders around the land. Trannigan had fallen for the ruse, and gave the khajiit some gold to show him around the unfamiliar wilderness. As soon as the two had gotten far enough away from civilization, the khajiit had drawn the knife from its hilt and attempted to cut Trannigan down. After struggeling for a good few minutes, Trannigan finally managed to put down his would be killer and relieved him of the blade and his gold.

Trannigan placed the blade back into his pack, and layed down for the night, thinking about the gold he would be getting for selling a blade of that quality. He stared up at the nighttime sky while he layed, and slowly he managed to drift off to sleep. He awoke however to a strong, deathly cold wind. The gust made him shiver strongly even with the fur on, and he opened his eyes slowly and appeared around. What met his sight though was something that truely baffled him. He was in some strange bed, in an even stranger building that he did not recognize; the walls and floor was completely caked in a mixture of blood and soot. Jumping swiftly out of the bed, Trannigan ran out of the door and down the dimly lit starecase. It looked as though he was now in some emptied out and abandoned shop, and behind the counter, slumped in the corner layed a decayed skeleton. Judging from the height Trannigan guessed it was either a Nord or an Altmer. Trannigan slowly stepped his way out of the shop, longsword drawn incase he ran into any type of threats.

Once he was outside he was horrified to find himself in a large, mostly destroyed city, many of them looked to be badly charred, and many of them had also seemed to be in a crumbling ruin state. Stepping over a burnt hunk of wood, Trannigan lifted it and could barely make out the words 'Mystic Emporium'. (Calindiil NOOOOO!!! :teehee: ) Suddenly a shrill voice called out from the erry green tinted darkness. "Greetings mortal! I suppose you are wondering why I have brought you to this place..." The voice cackled mockingly and Trannigan growled with frustration.

"Show yourself now! I demand to know who you are!" Trannigan shouted back and darted his eyes around the area, trying to pinpoint the source of the disembodied voice.

The voice cackled louder amd retorted. "You dare demand things from me!? You stupid little worm! Perhaps I should just kill you now, and keep you in my realm of nightmares forever as my personal plaything..."

Trannigan listened to those words and began thinking to himself. Realm of nightmares? does that mean.... Vaermina!? Oh [censored].... This is not good news.... Trannigan tried to keep composer at the revelation, and spoke aloud. "Just what is it you want from me Daedra? I have little time for your games!" As soon as Trannigan said those words an obscenely powerful gust of wind blew at him, sending him into the wall behind him and knocking him dizzy, Vaermina shrieked out in a threatening voice. "Silence! Anymore insolence from you and I will kill you where you stand!!!" Vaermina then explained to Trannigan the situation he was in, telling him in a mocking voice that this would be a test of his mental will, and that there would be others that he will meet up with along the way. She laughed again and explained that if he wanted to get back to the real world with his life, he would have to help each individual with their tasks, all the while he would have to keep hold og his own sanity, and not let his bloodlust consume him or he would stay forever in this nightmare. With that, Vaermina lit the pathway that he was to be set on, and ordered him to get out of her sight.

OOC: Now we can get this thing started. The others are working on their sheets and will be posting soon, so here we go...

IC:

The hallway that Sae-Kas entered was nearly a perfect copy of the one outside of this dreamworld, except for two things. Firstly, instead of the comforting soft white stone that he had grown accustomed to, the walls were made of some strange black material that shone where light touched it. The second strange thing that Sae-Kas noted was more disturbing; it was abandoned. There were no signs of intelligent inhabitants living there for at least a decade. Rats scurried up and down the walls, their small claws clacking against the stone. One of them seemed to take offense at his presence and leaped at him, fangs bared in a snarl. With little effort he caught it midair by the throat. He examined it, noting that it was smaller than its real world counterparts, and its eyes glowed red. It struggled weakly against his grip, and Sae-Kas saw that the rat was starving, its belly concave with hunger. I guess that explains why they're so weak, he thought, and snapped its neck, to avoid dealing unnecessary pain to the small creature. He was about to discard the corpse, but something about its back stood out to him. he turned it over, and noticed several greenish spines on its shoulders. a closer look revealed some sort of venom dripping from them. Feeling that some sort of poison may be helpful in this world, he carefully broke off the spines and stuck them into a specially lined pocket of his robe.

Upon tossing the corpse aside, the other rats immediately fell upon it in a mass feeding frenzy. He carefully skirted around them and made his way to the front entrance of the tower, and opened the enormous double doors to freedom. The light shone in, an odd bluish purple, nearly blinding him. as his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw two figures looking in his direction. They were wearing armor that appeared similar to the armor of the legion, so he made his way towards them. When his vision cleared enough to see clearly, he looked at their faces and sstopped dead in his tracks.The figures in the armor weren't human... at least not anymore. Two skeletons, their eyes glowing slightly, regarded him impassively. One started forward, speaking in a rasping voice that betrayed no gender, yet was reminiscent to a cockney accent.

"Oi! You there! Come here!" The skeletons jaw clicked with every syllable. Sae-Kas shivered a little at the voice, but looked around and said "Me?"

"No... the other twit walking around like he's blind or something. Yes, you!" Sae-Kas shook off his initial fear, realizing that these skeletons meant him no harm, at least for the time being. Though he still felt uneasy around them. He walked forward to meet them.

"Alright, first things first, Just what do you think you were doing in there? The Old Obsidian's been abandoned for years!" Sae-Kas began nervously explaining what had happened.

"Well, I fell asleep you see, and when I woke up, I was in there! And Vaermina was there too!" he exclaimed.

"Wait, You're saying that the Lord spoke to you?" It cocked its head and scratched the top of its skull under its helmet. "Oh! You must be one o' them other ones! Not from this realm. Yeah, Vaermina told us about you. You're free to go. Move along, then." It walked away muttering under its "breath" about how any idiot could wind up in the tower these days. Sae-Kas was still left a little dumbstruck as to what was going on. But decided to call the fact that they weren't trying to skewer him a small victory. He began making his way to what he hoped was the equivalent of the King and Queen tavern, believing that if there was anywhere he could get hints as to where one of his other selves might be, it'd be in a tavern. Even though there was smoke rising from some parts of the city, the area above the tavern seemed to be clear.

I don't know what happened, but if parts of the city are destroyed it can't be good. Or maybe Vaermina just destroyed it for the fun of it, who knows. He shrugged and continued to his destination. If he was lucky, He'd find his other self, or even another actual person.

Name: Lycurgus

Race: Argonian

Age: 24

Height: approx. 6’ 1”

Body type: An overall lean and skinny figure.

Skin color: Pale tan-grey, with pale grey-violet stripes covering his entire form.

Eye Color: Pale yellow-green

“Hair”: Frills (Morrowind style)

Birthsign: The Shadow

Skills:
Blades (focuses on daggers)
Marksman (Master marksman)
Alchemy (can only make poisons)
Sneak (Above-average ability)
Light armor
Acrobatics

Talents: An extremely agile and quick individual compensating for his distinct lack of brute force with lighting fast reactions, he is completely dependent on stealth and the moment of surprise in battle, a huge weakness should his cover get blown despite his above average sneak abilities this do happen. He’s not a front-line fighter and would rather flee than stand his ground; this is where his acrobatics skills come into play. Honing an ability which carries no actual name Lycurgus refers to it simply as ‘the art of escape’, makes him able to scale just about any surface and to get from point A to point B very effectively. He’s a distance fighter relying on the bow both during assassinations, and general combat situations, thusly he has honed his marksman skills to near perfection but given his line of work he sometimes have to resort to the dagger if the situation or indeed the contract demands any particular style of death. He wears light armor more out of necessity than free-will, in fact Lycurgus would rather be without finding the armor slightly restraining; yet he can’t afford to forgot the protection it offers even if it’s not much, it better than nothing. He carries knowledge of alchemy though he can only produce poisons have never been taught the other aspects of alchemy.

Inventory: A silver dagger, a composite recurve bow, a quiver with 21 steel-tipped arrows, various poisons, a dark leather cuirass and bracers, and a dark grey hooded cloak.

Personality: Indifference, is at least one word that describes Lycurgus in a nutshell, as long as it isn’t a personal issue in some form or another, or one with a considerable price tag on it, you’re not very likely to find this lizard paying it much mind or really caring much. Indeed it doesn’t really look like this assassin cares for the consequences of his actions much either; seemingly putting no thought who he harms, affect negatively in some form or another, or even kills through his choices; as long as it’s not fellow Dark Brotherhood members, however civilians, law enforcements and other enemies political and personal are free game. Achieving the goal is more important than what it left standing or indeed who is left standing beside himself once the job is completed and he gets paid for it.

He harbors a suspicious personality and it takes a long time before he trusts others, and he doesn’t seem to take loyalty as seriously as he perhaps should; his loyalty lies with himself primarily. He has a moral ambiguity deeply rooted in his tribal heritage, a belief that if you’re weak, you die; if you don’t fight you’ll die and in the end nature will be your final judge, even if he comes off as an inconsiderate and egoistic bastard a majority of the time, he does have his noble sides particularly towards those he has some degree of respect for or cares about even if he ever showing them is unlikely, at least it won’t be obvious to those around him. Beyond this he’s almost annoyingly optimistic about most things, it takes a really [censored] situation for him to admit to the realities and lose his never-ending optimism. Lycurgus has the habit of giving people nicknames rather than referring to them by name, also he throws insults at people often not even being aware that he is doing it. Being a killer Lycurgus exhibits psychopathic tendencies, e.g. Antisocial Personality Disorder; despite coming off as generally normal, indeed he’s quite the charmer he does in fact bears little to no emotion or regrets in concerns with murder, having next to no empathy for his victims and little conscience in concerns with his actions.

Back story: Born under the sign of the Shadow, Lycurgus’ destiny was thrust onto him from the moment of hatching; he was taken at birth and given to the Dark Brotherhood. Under the Brotherhoods guidance he was trained in stealth and assassinations, he found the experience rather daunting and if not scary at first after all he was still very much a child. But over the years the child in him was quickly erased and as a consequence Lycurgus grew up without much of a childhood; he was a dutiful student and mastered the arts taught to him, but employed some of his own touch to it. During his teenage years he returned to Black Marsh and served his homeland as a spy and assassin, until the day he came of age and was accepted as a full member of the Brotherhood. Outside of Argonian he naturally keeps his assassin profession a secret adopting a covert profession as a hunter.

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The smell of burning wood seeped into his nostrils, flaring as he took a deep breath only to jolt awake with a hard coughing fit. Crawling onto his hands and knees at first, Lycurgus was gasping for air his blurry gaze trailed around him and the assassin found he had been laying splayed out in middle of the cobblestone road, the buildings around him reminded of the Imperial City yet everything had a gloomy air over it, a flakes of sot raining like snow from the smog choked skies above. ‘Where am I?!’ the pale-skinned Argonian thought through a small cough pushing himself to his feet wobbling slightly to regain balance. Cracking his shoulders and loosening his stiff muscles the poor reptile literally jumped at the sound of a voice calling out in a soft laugh although its direction was difficult to point out. “Who are you?!” he hissed looking around himself in frantic desperation, his chest rising and falling due to pent up anxiety.

“Hey! Answer me!” he called out but the laughing voice slowly faded away leaving nothing but the sound of the wind. Lycurgus found he was still decked out in his armor, and had all his weapons with him but the last thing he could remember was falling asleep in a ditch under a tree. The fills along the side his long skull lowered slightly in discomfort it was difficult to see through the thin veil of smoke that seemed to envelop the entire city. What had happened to this place? That was one of the few things Lycurgus was asking himself as he walked down the path trying to find either a person or some landmark of familiarity.

Sae-Kas had been making his way to what he hoped was the tavern, when he began getting unnerved at all the silence around him. Apart from the skeleton guards wandering aimlessly about, he hadn't seen more than five people, and this was in an area where the city seemed rather clear of destruction. And those few individuals only responded to his greetings with the simplest of answers, some of the duller ones going for little more than pre-linguistic grunts, and all of them walking around with fixed-eye stares, as though straining to pick out a particular piece of dust in the air, but not realizing that it would move as they walked.

He shook his head, hoping that all of the citizens in this realm weren't like this, and that these were outcasts, shunned because of their incredible stupidity. It was while he was pondering this that he heard shouting off in the distance, coming from the general direction of the market district, as well as laughter that reminded him of the cold chuckles he'd heard a few minutes earlier. He looked up and saw that the market district was one with clouds of rising smoke in the area, thus cementing his idea that this wouldn't be easy.

He quickly made his way through to the district, passing several more skeleton guards and husk-like citizens. Immediately, it became harder to breathe, though still manageable. He walked down the main path, looking for the source of the yelling he'd heard earlier, and hoping it wasn't just some trick of the wind, which at this point wouldn't be a bad assumption for an apparent source of intelligence. Though it seemed to be wrong; There was an imperial walking around, seemingly confused, though appearing to have some actual intelligence, as he wasn't walking as though brain-dead. He waited a little bit to make sure that he wasn't just another brain-dead citizen, then began calling out to him.

OOC: maybe a meeting of characters can help move this thing along, before it dies in a ditch

Edit: fixed a mistake I made (Tamira hasn't stated where his character is, trannigan has! Doi!)

Character Sheet:



The mead hall was alive and flourishing with activity. The small band of mercenaries had scored some particularly good loot earlier in the day from a traveling merchant caravan. Various foods and wines, in addition to a massive amount of gold was the catalyst of the large party taking place in the lavishly decorated hall. The party-goers were singing and laughing, telling stories of days past and making plans to strike it rich in the frozen wasteland of Skyrim. Drunken and stimulated, they crowed around their leader, a powerful Dumner who went by the name of Eno.

The Dumner was generally a cold, untrusting individual, but he had warm feelings and enough trust to lead his comrades in battle. The band had been operating for a good two years, and had twelve members, including Eno. They operated as warriors and terrorists for hire, assassinating or pillaging anything for the right price, and they occasionally free-lanced when an employer was non-existent.

Once the party was over, everyone magnetically drifted toward their bedrolls, and sleep pulled them in like a fish on a reel. Eno was asleep within minutes.

He woke, yawned, and began to stretch, but his hand was blocked by a flat surface that was only inches from his face. The presence of the unknown surface startled him, and he jerked violently to the side, meeting more blockage. Fear began to set in, he could find no way out of the box he was in, but then he finally realized it was no box, but a coffin. He had been buried alive.

Just as he began to shout in fear and frustration a voice spoke to him. “Welcome, Eno. Your arrival has been anticipated for some time now” said the voice. It was distantly feminine, but it also had the sound of grinding steel and crunching of stone.

“Who the hell are you? Where am I?” he shouted at the speaker, who could not be seen from his coffin.

“The number of names I have in immense, but you should know me by Vaermina, and you are in my realm of profane Nightmares.” Explained the malicious voice. “If you escape, then you escape. If you die, then you will die. Now go along and have fun, my plaything.” And with that, the voice faded away.

Trannigan cautiously walked down the pathway that Vaermina had lit for him. As he creeped, he looked around at the creepy surroundings and he felt chills run up his spine as he tried not to let Vaermina ge the best of him.Stepping past some burning crates, he glanced down at them and noticed what looked to be organs crammed inside of them. Trannigan covered his face from the potential spell and thought to himself. She is trying to break my willpower, I cant let her tricks get to me. He knew full well though just how dangerous and real the hallucinations could be in this world though, as long as the daedric god willed them to be.

Trannigan slowly checked all of the shops and buildings, but aside from the occasional "villager", people who looked to be human but did not respond to him in any way, he only found more carnage. Trannigan began screaming out,hoping to get an answer back from anywhere, even if hostile. After a few minutes of shouting, and after almost giving up the search, he suddenly hear a yell back coming from what sounded like the opposite end of the quarter. Trannigan quickly ran in the direction of the voice and kept shouting repsonses back to the voice in hopes that it was coming from a friendly source.

Eno shouted and thrashed about in the wooden coffin he was stuck in. The air was already hot and stale, and he was getting light headed. He remembers whenever he had a nightmare as a child he used to yell “This isn’t real! This is just a dream!” but such verbal announcements were useless here, this was real. He could feel everything in vivid detail, this was no dream.

After more rounds of exhaustive thrashing he lay still, trying to catch his diminishing breathe. Keep cool, there has to be a way out of this, otherwise you wouldn’t be here. Deadra are logical beings. Eno thought. He began to press upwards with all of his might in an attempt to force his way out of the claustrophobic prison. To Eno’s surprise, the coffin lid began to move upwards, a little bit at first, then more, and more, until soil was beginning to filter into the cracks. Soon he was standing up wards, and had nowhere else to push. The loam of the earth began to flood in and envelope his form, trapping him in the earth once more.

With his heart racing, he scrambled in panic to escape, preforming an almost swimming motion to escape the hungry earth. His spirits soared high once his head burst forth from the ground. He quickly pulled himself out of the soil with all of his might, sprawling onto a stone floor. Eno lay on the ground, panting like a hound. After he regained his energy, he stood and examined his surroundings.

The dirt he was once trapped in was nowhere to be found, he was surrounded by a white marble floor. The room was large and circular, and capped with a massive dome. An odd, greenish light came in through the shattered windows, faintly illuminating the Temple of the One.

I must be in the Imperial City, thought Eno as he began to move towards the exit.

OOC: Since Trannigan hasn't been posting, I'll just move the story for someone else

In the Temple District of the Imperial city, Eno had freed himself from his earthy prison, and was moving towards the exit when a voice, sharper than swords and colder than ice, broke the silence surrounding the temple.

"So you did manage to free yourself. Good. Maybe Mephala was right about this being amusing" the voice said, lowering into more of a mutter near the end before continuing,"... Either way, you have conquered a challenge that many would have succumbed to. Congratulations. You still have much farther to go, and more to face, but you've taken a vital first step. As you have discovered, dream or not, this is real enough. Do not take anything lightly. There are others in the remains of this city, seek them out if you wish. Until we meet again, Eno. And remember, I am always watching."

The presence departed, leaving the area cold in its wake.

OOC: I'm going to try to get trannigan posting again, if he can't continue, then I will bring in another poster, and his character will be in for a nasty surprise.

OOC: I just posted 2 times ago lol. I was waiting on you or Tamira to say something else before I did. I have been waiting for one of your characters to meet up with mine since a few of you said you heard his shouts, instead of me just wondering around aimlessly.

OOC: Woops, I wasn't paying enough attention to that! Ok, now to fix my mistake!

IC: When the Imperial answered his call, Sae-Kas immediately felt relief, mainly because he was right. He hated being wrong, and also that he now had an ally in this madness. Sae-Kas looked him over briefly, noting his muscles and sword. Well, as far as allies go, I could have found a worse one...he at least seems as though he could defend himself. Sae-Kas approached him, friendly yet wary. The Daedra had hinted that there would be surprises in store for him. He looked back into the man's face and bluntly said, "So I take it Vaermina got you too?"

Martin Dergius, Temple District.

Martin Dergius had lived in the Market District for a long time, renting a converted cellar underneath the rebuilt blacksmiths and weapon-forge. A decade ago it had almost been razed to the ground, and the old owner killed. During the Imperial City riots ten years past, there had been a lot of property owners who died. Martin and the other technomancers found that highly suspect, and used it as yet more proof that whole "Oblivion Crisis" was just a fabrication and facade to cover the barbaric and base manner in which the city's poor had gone mad in an attempt to simultaneously further themselves. The night before he had actually been mixing ingredients in the hope of inventing the perfect hangover cure; one that didn't rely on the "Nine Divines" or hope, or "magic" to work. After sampling some of the produce, he'd been rendered unconscious on the floor next to his desk. Coming to, he had - quite ironically - a severe headache.

He blinked a few times and stretched his arms, yawning. He was looking at a ceiling - he realized it was a lot higher up than it should have been too. And it was the wrong colour. And it had holes in it. Straining his neck, he looked around. He was spread-eagled on the central alter of the Temple of the Nine, in the Temple District. His satchel was next to him on the floor. Even after he had identified his location and the whereabouts of his bag (what was that doing there?), it brought him no comfort. With rapidly growing unease, he took in the shattered windows, with broken glass littering the floor around the wall's perimeter. At the exit, one of the huge doors was ajar, as if someone had just used it. Something fluttered to the floor next to him. It was a scrap of parchment. Two more fell in front of him, then another behind. He snatched one up and looked at it, turning it over both ways. As he held it, a spidery text began to scratch itself into the paper in a horribly familiar crimson colour. "Don't look up".

With a foreboding sense of dread he picked up another of the scraps to find the same message. He shivered. They say that curiosity shelled the Mudcrab, but they were bloody horrible creatures anyway and no-one cared if they died. He was a technomancer and discovering things, even to his detriment, was his forté. Slowly he looked up and with great willpower subdued a small shriek. There were horrible things dancing merrily around the outside of the ceiling, doing disgusting things to themselves, and terrible, horrifying things to each other. But the worst was the unseeable - the unknown. The roof's center, the heart of darkness, was submerged in shadows. Two pinpricks of evil, malignant red light glared down at him...

Trannigan kept following the shouting voice, making sure to travel slowly still so that he could hopefully avoid any dangers. While traveling Trannigan kept coming across what had appeared to be guards, only instead of seeing the usual imperial clad in armor, these things were merely standing skeletons, donned in rusted looking husks of metal. Every time he laid eyes on one, he would quickly duck behind some building or intact barrel, trying to keep his heavy metal armor as quiet as possible.

Finally, after what seemed to him like eternity, Trannigan spotted a gray Argonian in the distance, he noticed that the argonian was the one who was doing the shouting, and Trannigan called out to the lizard then he slowly slowly paced up to him. He noticed that the argonian was skeptically eyeing him down, just as Trannigan was doing back to him. Before Trannigan could react in any way the argonian asked bluntly. "So I take it Vaermina got you too?"

With that question, Trannigan flashed a little grin and replied, "Seems that way... It appears that before we will be able to get out of this hell-hole we are to be her little play things first." He gave the argonian a knowing look and asked in return "What did the devious [censored] tell you that your task was to be?"

IC:

Above Martin, the glowing red eyes narrowed, glowing brighter. The shadows solidified and dropped in front of him, forming into the shape of a Lich, eyes aflame with an otherwordly light. It floated about a foot off the ground, appraising the individual in front of it. From between ancient lips, a cold voice came forth,

"Martin...," a slight pause, "Can't you read?" it said, with a slight chuckle. "Then again, you must think this is only a dream. Understandable, I must admit. And technically correct. I am Vaermina, Daedric Lord of dreams and nightmares. Welcome to my world, mortal. Tell me, why do you think you are here? Or are you still fooling yourself into thinking this isn't real?" The Lich narrowed one eye slightly and cocked its head, waiting for an answer, nonchalantly crossing its arms over its skeletal chest.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Sae-Kas thought for a moment, remembering what Vaermina had said. "I assume its similar to yours. Face your fears, and yourself, etcetera, etcetera. The only difference I suppose is the 'yourself' part. For me it's... well that doesn't matter right now." He didn't want this potential ally knowing everything just yet. He continued, "I was going to try to find some info on where to go, and the best place to go for that is a tavern. From here it looks like the city is destroyed, but there seems to be some areas left standing. I'm going to look for someone besides the skeletons to ask for help." He began moving towards where he hoped some version of the King and Queen's Tavern stood. He paused and looked over his shoulder, "Well? Are you coming? Or do you have a better plan?" while it may not have been the best time to be so blunt, but the smoke was getting to him, as was the eerie silence that permeated the area when they weren't talking.

Martin Dergius, Temple of the One, Temple District.

Martin had broken out in a cold sweat. Oh he should never have sampled that poultice so close to dusk! The rejects could so often prompt such vivid nightmares - Build 11.3a2 was an abysmal failure! "Oh my! Begone, foul shade and figment of my imaginings! This is but a convolved nightmare, brought to fruition by a combination of old cheese at bed-time and bad experimental potions!" He glanced around the shattered, apocalyptic room again and whimpered, crawling backwards away from the undead, mystical nightmare that stood insolently before him.

He dived for his satchel and rifled through, tearing out one of the books and holding it aloft (almost) triumphantly with a severely shaking hand. "See! This is Brother-Technomancer Froodius' treatise on the "Humane Under-Mynd". My under-mind has conjured up an avatar of the magical and mystic simply b-because..." He swallowed nervously, a deep, far reaching and utterly irrational fear having been gnawing its way to the very soul he would have claimed he didn't have. "Because I s-spend so much time arguing with th-those bigoted priests," he finished with a whimper.

Throughout his short and awkward monologue the lich seemed to grow taller and taller, a dark and malicious aura surrounding it. As Martin finished, it seemed to want to make an example; his treatise was snatched from his hands by invisible spirits, by the telekinetic arts. Hanging suspended in front of him, tiny talons shredded it into sawdust, which then circled in a globe in front of him. After a moment, the ruined remains combusted in a flare of purple magical flame. Martin sat, blood drained from his face, slacked jawed and terrified.

Lycurgus had kept quiet walking in his picked direction through the Market District he could see that now even if any actual form of familiarity was hard to come by, in all honesty, despite all the people walking around aimlessly he did not address them as frankly he had never garnered much trust in strangers; hell he was an assassin after all and one of the Dark Brotherhood no less. The fellow members of the Brotherhood were the only ones he gave any sort of miniscule trust everyone else was viewed with subtle suspicion. The hood pulled over his head, the shadowscale headed towards the Elven Gardens District, though he doubted it’d be very many gardens left there if it was same story across the entire city.

The flakes of sot raining like snow from the sky, covering the ground with a fine grey powder reminded the Argonian somewhat of what he had read of the Ashlands of Vvardenfell, according to the book these kinds of things usually happen during volcanic eruptions. But Cyrodiil had no active volcanoes and Morrowind’s Red Mountain was several thousand miles away, it made next to no sense! Pushing past the gate to the Elven Gardens what faced the shadowscale was not that different from the environment he left the same sot kept raining down. ‘I gotta get out of the city.’ Lycurgus thought, following the main road through the district whose gardens that were once green were now withered brown and blacks.

The argonian stood there for a moment, before answering. "I assume its similar to yours. Face your fears, and yourself, etcetera, etcetera. The only difference I suppose is the 'yourself' part. For me it's... well that doesn't matter right now." He didn't want this potential ally knowing everything just yet. He continued, "I was going to try to find some info on where to go, and the best place to go for that is a tavern. From here it looks like the city is destroyed, but there seems to be some areas left standing. I'm going to look for someone besides the skeletons to ask for help."

Trannigan nodded his head and replied "That sounds like a good idea, I just hope that even if this district's tavern is still there it has any helpful beings inside." Trannigan's eyes scanned the sky slowly after speaking, looking for signs of destruction in the other districts. Plumes of smoke had been drifting up from most of them, and he also noticed that quite a few areas in the district they were in were unnaturally dark. He couldnt be entirely sure, but he also could swear that he was hearing odd growls and hisses eminating from the shadows. He was hoping that this was only in his imagination but when he thought he heard a claw-like noise come from one of the darkened streets, Trannigan's whole body tensed up and he stared intently down the way.


The argonian then began walking away while Trannigan surveyed the distance. "Well? Are you coming? Or do you have a better plan?"

His voice snapped Trannigan out of his stare, and he turned back to face the lizard. "Yeah... sorry, just thought I heard something but it's hard to tell." The two began walking down the main street, and Trannigan kept his blade at the ready. He slowly looked around his surroundings aswell, weary of the ghost-like beings and not wanting to fall into an ambush. While they walked Trannigan spoke up again. "I was thinking, if the building happens to have fallen, or is empty, he should try the Talos plaze district next, that seems like a good place to find more help possibly." Thankfully though a few minutes later, The Kings and Queens tavern could be seen off in the distance, the man quickened their pace, and Trannigan opened the door for them to step inside, thinking as he did so. Now to find out if we can aquire anymore useful information here.

Martin Dergius, Real World.

In the real world, Martin's inert form twitched on the floor next to his desk. Dreams seem surreal and blurred to the wakened man, with the unconscious psyche jumping from encounter to encounter seemingly at random in a swirling maelstrom of imagery. Only the most lucid and remarkable of these experience sequences would be remembered, and then only as a wisp of the actual event. An evening's sleep seemed an eternity to the dreamer, but mere hours to the observer. Perhaps responding to some great trauma or shock, he twitched again. A rat scurried across the floor and found his ankle.

It was a pygmy version of the monsters that inhabited the sewers. Perhaps it was a freak midget, or a different specie. Perhaps it was merely a juvenile youngster. Regardless, it climbed onto his leg and scaled the heights of his thighs until it was perched on his hip, pink nose quivering. It turned around, peering through the gloom with its little red eyes, scaly tail flailing for balance. After a moment of apparent contemplation, it darted off towards some distant yet alluring scent. A few moments later there was the stealthy nibble of the rodent as it attempted to gnaw its way into the satchel, looking to make off with the hunk of bread that was contained within.

The experience wasn't necessarily relevant to Martin's adventure in the nightmare-world, but who is to say how the subconscious plays its games with the mortal man? Perhaps the tickle and scratch of the rat's whiskers and talons would fundamentally alter the manner in which he explored his new environment? What it did prove was that he was in no natural sleep. Such an encounter would have elicited an extremely negative response due to his limited sense of musophobia. His enforced comatose remained uninterrupted throughout.


OOC: Just bumping the thread with a non-story related post. Glass Argonian, you still here? Just want to know if the RP will be continuing is all. An OORP discussion thread would be useful for this sort of stuff.

OOC: yes I am still here, its just that I don't have much time to post on weekends or during school. But on weekdays, I'm online pretty much all the time after school, so that's when I'll be able to post much more often.

IC:

Sae-Kas; Elven Gardens District
-----------------------------------

Sae-Kas was about to respond to the Imperial, when the door to the tavern opened and the sound of merriment hit him at full blast. This was a shock, considering he wasn't expecting the place to be occupied at all. But what was more of a shock was what was occupying it. A random assortment of Daedra and creatures co-mingled at their tables; two minotaurs were engaged in a drunken brawl, delivering each other blows that would have crushed a man's head, but didn't seem to faze either of them, as well as delivering banter just as ineffective ("Your mother's a [censored]!"- "We have the same mother!"); a daedroth and frost atronach seemed to be having an arm wrestling contest. Of course, all of this stopped as soon as they saw the newcomers. Several glasses dropped, and then silence. All eyes were upon both of them, and Sae-Kas was frozen in fear.

After several seconds, Sae-Kas gathered enough courage to say what he believed would be his last snarky comment; "Nice party, I had no idea the circus was in town. Got any room for two more freaks?" The silence continued for several moments following his admittedly ill-advised, not to mention somewhat lame, comment. Then... They all burst out laughing, at least he hoped they were. The merriment resumed, as well as the minotaur fight and the arm-wrestling. He let out a huge sigh of relief and leaned towards Trannigan.

"Not one of my better moments, but at least it worked, eh?"

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Vaermina, Market District
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After the Lich disappeared, many glowing red eyes replaced it in the darkness, accompanied by chittering and scratching. Vaermina's voice resumed, cold and wickedly amused,

"Believe it or not, in my realm, everything is real. If you die here, you are dead. Understand and accept this, and you may succeed my test. You have lived with fear and loathing of all things magical, and in disbelief of the gods and Daedra. I cannot speak for the gods, but being one, I can tell you that daedra are real. You must face your fears, and yourself. To do so, you must find the places here that you fear the most. Inside will be an aspect of yourself to face and overcome. Fail, and you will die. Now stop sniveling and get out of here, there are worse things to face than a few illusions. And hurry, lest I lose my patience."

The room returned to normal, the cold presence departing and the illusions fading away. It was time for Martin's trial to begin.

--------------------------------------------------------

Martin Dergius, Temple District.

Martin slowly pulled himself to his feet, peering around the room cautiously, searching for the unholy eyes that had previously occupied the empty space. He was alone it seemed. Still shivering, he wiped his forehead with a sleeve. Squatting down, he shuffled the pile of shredded parchment that had previously been a prized possession into a heap, then dumped it into the bottom of his bag, which he then fastened and slung over his shoulder. He closed his eyes and kneaded his temples for a moment. This required some careful thought. He was obviously in some kind of lucid dream, from which his Under Mind had posed a challenge in order to purify his conscious thought.

He looked around the ruined room for a second time before making for the door. Already he could feel a 'tug', a pull towards something outside in the city. He was stopped in his tracks when a tiny rat appeared in the doorway before him. It halted to look at him for a moment, twitching its whiskers before darting to the door-frame and looking back at him again. He was rooted to the spot at the sight of it. He hated the filthy, disease ridden vermin. The scaly tails, the dumb eyes, the scratchy claws... They made bile rise in his throat. The whiskers twitched again, almost mocking him, before it raced away through the open door.

Breathing deeply, he waited for a moment before following it out. His new surroundings shocked him. Rubble and detritus was scattered across the Plaza of The One, with the buildings that fringed it finding themselves in varying states of decay and collapse. Fires still smoldered in some places, although the destruction appeared to be already finished for the most part. He shuddered again, feeling a cold sweat breaking out. "Hello?" he called. "Hello?!" His voice echoed away into silence. No reply seemed forthcoming. In a city that housed millions, how far would his voice travel, even in this deathly silence?

It was time to do something. He vowed he would explore his surroundings. Dream or no, there must be an underlying theme or issue that was motivating him in its conjuration. If he could find and unravel it - much as the dream-monster "Daedra" had claimed, maybe he could settle unresolved issues and find greater peace of mind? He shuffled his feet in the ash and grit while deciding where to go. After a moment of deliberation he turned and made for White Gold Tower. Green Emperor Way was the city's central spoke. You could get anywhere from there and perhaps he'd discover more clues on the way. Besides, if the worst came to worst, in dreams you always woke up just before you died, right?

OOC: It seems Dagoth_Gojira has dropped out of the RP. It is now my mission to resolve his character's story. Anyone reading may also note that this frees up a spot in the RP if someone wishes to join.

IC:

Vaermina; Outside of the Temple District
---------------------------------------------

The Dark Elf named Eno stepped out from the massive double doors that served as an entrance to the Imperial city. He looked to the east, where there were supposed to be hilly forests, teeming with life both hostile and benign. To his confusion, in the distance he saw thick trees covered in ropy vines as thick as his arm. He heard the buzzing of strange insects and the calls of foreign birds from that direction. A jungle? Here in Cyrodiil? Things must be more different than I thought. He looked to the north, where previously had been snow covered mountains. The mountains were still there, except now they weren't just mountains. Hot, burning lava spewed forth from there peaks, bright enough to be seen even at this distance. The lands below them had turned into a near barren wasteland. Small brown shrubs could be seen sprouting from the cracked earth from where he stood, and some of the cracks glowed faintly, betraying the lava flows beneath. hisses of escaping geysers of air could be faintly heard in the distance, and the area was cloudy with airborne ash. And ashlands. wonderful. As though I hadn't gotten enough of them in Vvardenfell.

He stood, deciding between the lesser of two evils. Before he could choose which path he wanted to take, he heard a scream off in the distance that snapped him from his thoughts. That scream... I've heard that scream before... He drew his sword and ran towards the sound, desperately trying to recall where he'd heard it. He'd heard plenty of screams in his lifetime, why did this one cause him to react so? why did this one cause him to feel anything?

A cold voice from above answered his thoughts:

"Remember Eno, you are in MY realm. All of your fears are laid bare before me. I know about everything you've done. And, I know what you failed to do." The voice began to giggle, then laugh maniacally, the sound harsher on his ears than the grating of steel on stone. His eyes widened in understanding. "No... No!" He ran even faster despite wanting to turn and run the other direction. He came upon what looked like a wilderness camp, with a fire reduced to embers. Several figures loomed in fron of the fire, their faces unnaturally dark. Only their eyes were visible. The eyes of a Dunmer. And tied up on their knees in front of them were two others. A man and a woman. He looked at their faces and felt tears, burning and bleary, leap unbidden to his eyes. They were his mother and father, exactly how he remembered them. That little scar above his father's eye. The way his mother wore her hair. done to the last detail, they were the same. he had never cried once since the first time he'd seen this scene, his parents tied and helpless, about to be slaughtered before his eyes.

A wicked grin, too wide for a normal mouth, appeared on one of the figure's faces as he brandished a knife. The same knife that had haunted him since that night. He looked at his parents again. Their eyes were pleading with him, telling him not to look, to run away and don't stop. He tried to follow their wishes, but couldn't move. He felt weaker than only moments before, and the figures seemed taller, more menacing. he looked down at himself and saw that he was now trapped in the body he'd had then, the body of a small child. He looked back up and saw the figures bringing knives to his parents' throats. Eno called out, "Please! Don't! Don't Kill-" They brought down the knives, the blades flashing across the throats of the only people he'd ever loved. A fountain of blood sprayed out, covering them all. Eno felt the warm liquid on his face, and saw it running down his arms. The figures relished it. They began licking their faces, sampling the kill they'd made. Eno reeled in revulsion, fell down to the ground. The figures looked up at him, grinning even wider, long tongues whipping around their mouths.

They all brought their knives back out again and began moving towards him, eyes glowing. Eno began to panic, crawling backwards frantically. they simply walked a little faster to meet him. If I'm to survive, I must fight, there is no other way. I will not let this Daedra torment me with these specters anymore! He got up, and the figures paused, heads cocked to the side. Eno grabbed his sword, arms lengthening as his body returned to its original state. He held a stance, and yelled at the figures, "Come on then! You want to fight?! Then we'll fight! But I refue to be afraid of you any longer! Do you hear me?" He tensed up, "I'm," He lowered the point of his sword,"Not!" He locked eyes with the lead figure, "AFRAID!!!" at this, he charged at the figures, impaling the lead figure through its forehead. It gave a final, confused wheeze, demonic tongue lolling out from between its teeth, the figure began to glow, and then it and its fellows exploded in a brilliant white-gold light. All became silent.

Eno fell to his knees, shaken from his ordeal. He panted, thinking, It's over... I beat them! Why haven't I left, though? Why hasn't that Daedric [censored] said anything? As if to answer him, a small voice spoke up. But it wasn't Vaermina. It didn't com from the sky. It came from only a few feet away.

"Eno... Little Eno... is that you?" He froze, then looked slowly to the right. The voice belonged to his mother, who was now standing with his father in the camp, looking at him. Eno said in a small voice, "Mother?...Father?" the corresponding parents nodded. "Why are you here?" he asked, confused. There was something wrong. They were missing something, but his mind became fogged with emotion, and couldn't fill in the blanks. They moved towards him slowly. his mother said, "You defeated them just now, but... why couldn't you defeat them earlier?" She looked sad, disappointed. so did her husband. Eno said, "I was scared! I wasn't expecting it!" His mother looked angry, and for a split second he thought he saw something appear on her neck, but it was gone too soon to see what. "Why not? you've had that nightmare for years now. Why didn't you think Vaermina wouldn't use it? You're lying aren;t you?" Her voice grew accusatory, and she pointed a finger at him, "You just wanted us dead!" they began advancing on him.

"No! I...I didn't! I was just confused! I'm sorry! It's my fault!" His parents gave an unearthly shriek, and suddenly he could see what he'd been missing. The wounds. They'd disappeared. They'd been sliced open, and now they seemed fine. Not anymore though. the wounds reappeared, ugly and black. Their teeth grew into fangs, and they pounced through the air at him. He shut his eyes, expecting to be torn to shreds, when it didn't happen. Confused, he opened his his eyes and saw the things that were his parents, in midair, not moving at all. "What's going on?" he wondered aloud. A wisp of shadow descended from the sky, taking the form of a shadow atronach. Vaermina's voice came from it.

"I'm giving you a hint, that's what. See them?" the shadow gestured at the abominations that were in midair, "That's your guilt, about to consume you. You must defeat them, like you did the others. That's all I'm saying." The figure disappeared, leaving Eno alone, looking at his parents. He could still recognize them, they still had all of their features. He readied his sword, and looked at their faces again. I can't do it... I can't kill them... No sooner had he thought this, then time unfroze, and the creatures fell upon him. They ripped him apart, starting with his limbs. He bled out in only a few seconds, but the last thing he heard was a soft voice, cold and mocking, saying, "You have failed. you life is now mine." Then... nothing. He was dead.


In the real world, his body, surrounded by his fellow mercenaries, suddenly ripped itself apart, The first casualty in the Daedric Trials.

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Jyggalag's Realm

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A great orb, hovering above the lords congregated in the room, had shown the whole thing. There were some cheers, most notably from Mephala himself who announced, "Now wasn't that a show! Very skillfully done, Vaermina!" The lord smirked in response, "I have decided to make a small change to the games, and don't worry, it won't affect your score!" The diminutive man bobbed excitedly, "Instead of having a set number of mortals, if one dies, then they will be replaced. This will let you get higher scores, and will keep one lord from winning before the others have had a chance to play! It's only fair, after all." Many of the lords were indifferent to the new system, as many had foregone the competition from the beginning, seeing it as beneath them. Only time would tell as to how this would play out.


OOC: damn, I typed a friggin novel there! :tongue:

Trannigan pulled open the heavy door, and was shocked to hear all the usual noises found inside a typical tavern. He was even more shocked however when he looked inside of the door to see the various beasts of Cyrodiil along with several different types of daedra. They were carrying on like humans did, drinking merrily and carrying on in different ways. In the corner of the tavern there were a pair of minotaurs slugging it out, their heavy fists ringing out through the other noises. Around the bar there was even a few goblin bar wenches. Trannigan gawked in amazement at the oddness and for a few seconds he began to think he was instead in Sheogorath's realm.

When the creature's noticed Trannigan and Sae-Kas in the room, the room quickly went silent as they all eyed the two adveturers. Sae-Kas quickly made a comment aloud to try to lighten the mood. "Nice party! I had no idea the circus was in town, got any room for two more freaks?"

I hope to gods this works... Trannigan thought to himself, the room remained silent however and Trannigan winced a bit. We are probably screwed. When the room finally erupted into laughter though Trannigan let out a sigh of relief.

The argonian leaned over near Trannigan, saying "Not one of my better moments, but atleast it worked eh?"

Trannigan smiled a bit and retorted, "I am glad it did work... no offense but if they would have instead turned hostile, I would have been out that door!" He then chuckled a bit and gave Sae-Kas a little pat on the shoulder. He then went up to the bar and sat down in an empty stool, hoping any of the beasts nearby might be talking about Vaermina.

Sae-Kas - The King And Queen Tavern
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Sae-Kas joined Trannigan at the bar and was about to ask him what he thought his challenge would be when a burly Xivilai, who appeared to be the bartender, stood in front of them on the other side of the bar and said in a deep and gravelly voice, "For a couple of mortals, you two don't seem to bad. Have a drink. On the house," with this, he plopped two mugs filled with a strange glowing reddish substance in front of them. He continued, "Let me guess, you two are here for Vaermina's trial?" Sae-Kas nodded and asked,

"Have any advice for us? And have you seen anyone that looks like me? It's part of my challenge." Sae-Kas leaned in, eager for anything he had to say. The Xivilai ran a critical eye over them, raising an eyebrow. "You want my advice? Have fun, and try not to die. One of you mortals did only a few minutes ago; felt it all the way over here." He dismissively swept some dust off his shoulder and continued on. "And as for your other question, yeah I have seen you before. You might even find him still in this bar. If not, someone might have seen where he went. What about you?" he gestured at Trannigan, "You each get a tip, what do you want to know?"