A Great Many Names: Book III

A Great Many Names: Book III

Postby pROvAK » Wed Oct 30, 2013 4:48 am

Re: A Great Many Names-Book III
Post by pROvAK on Wed 11 Jul 2012, 11:02 pm

A Great Many Names -Book III

By Raksada Jo’Baal

Sharvyne saw light, and awoke from his ‘sleep’. He was in a small room, barely enough for him to walk in. His mouth was bound, but was easily untied by his free hands. The Dunmer stood up, and tested his functions. Nothing seemed to be out of order, so he grabbed his clothes and placed them on, contemplating the reasons for being poisoned. Checking the door, which he found locked; he heard footsteps approaching his room. The Ordinator slipped a small knife into his sheath attached his leg. The door swung open and he was pulled out of the room, and thrown to the ground.
“How in Azura’s name is this little fetcher still alive?” He yelled. Sharvyne shifted his position, and looked up at the man who seemed to growl at him. The Dunmer contemplated why he was doing this. Vadusa walked into the room at that moment and dropped the rest of Sharvyne's equipment in front of him.
"Let's go." She ordered. Sharvyne did as was told. The Dark skinned elf slowly walked down the low corridor with Vadusa.
"What are you called by?" she asked. Sharvyne looked to the floor, thinking quick. He was taught to tell what was true, and to lie was forbidden among the Indoril. But as times were desperate, and this needed to be done, he thought there could be an exeption.
"My name is Narusi Andaas, But I am known as Visthalu." Sharvyne gave a small smile, his name and title seemed very legitamate.
"Why Visthalu? It sounds you were titled by one of those wretched outlanders, perhaps a filthy Argonian." Sharvyne burned, as he did not understand the dislike against the other races of Tamriel. The Dunmer have fought with the other races for decades, with no final purpose. Sharvyne was raised to bring hatred to the other nations of Tamriel, but felt no need to. Vadusa brought him outside, and led him up to the roof, using a small staircase, and blocking the caravaner's view of Sharvyne. A few men stood atop the roof, and a fully armoured Assassin trailed shortly behind.
"Alright, everyone please leave. But not you Bradas." Vadusa ordered. Vadusa nodded at the large Assassin, and she followed the others down the short staircase. Sharvyne shifted his feet. The Assassins strode calmy toward him, and grabbed his hair, pulling him along. The night sky shimmered and Sharvyne almost thought of a prayer, but was pulled too hard to think. He was half thrown over the edge, and the Assassin hung onto his waist, while drawing a small, curved embalming tool. He set the tool in the small of the young Dunmer's back, then started to speak.
"You are truly with us...No?" Sharvyne's heart beat a little faster, before he replied.
"Yes, yes I am with you! Is there any other reason for joining your brotherhood?" The embalmer dug into Sharvyne's back, but his skin was not peirced.
"We are not a brotherhood...We are an...Organization...you see, there has been speculation, that you are not truly here to join us...but you are here to gather interlligence...and report back to that filthy group of Indoril!" The tool sunk shortly into Sharvyne's back, this time, seeping with red.
"No!" He yelled.
"I am here merely as a servant to the Commona Tong! I have withstood your trials, but you do not yet accept me?" The Assassin cocked his head.
"That is because we do not welcome thieving Indoril bastards." The embalming tool ripped through Sharvyne's back, side to side, and stabbed in. The Assassin slowly retracted the knife from his back, and plunged it in yet again, until it was visible through his other side. Sharvyne was set in shock as he gasped for air, wreathing and convulsing, until the Assassin pushed him off of the edge with his foot. He fell, short and hard, and hit the ground with a loud noise. He lay still; not a sound, not a thought. Falling in and out of consciousness, Sharvyne gathered that others were standing around him. In a small, unforgiving way, he almost wished he were dead, that the fall had killed him. But, as he was Ordinator in spirit, he recalled that he was taught to not go down without a fight. He grabbed dirt in his hand, wincing in pain. He then pushed himself to his knees, screaming in agony. Pushing his hands against the ground, he brought himself to his feet. Blood soaking into the dirt around him, he pushed his feet against the ground, and scraped ever further, not sure of his destination. Only a few feet were covered before Sharvyne fell to the ground. He lost consciousness then, and it wasn't long before his heart stopped. Nobody saw the body, and nobody saw it carried away either.
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