***Slowly J'layah stopped, and as she looked at Heeram Thule, the man who had taken her sister and haunted her thoughts, she realised that he was dead.
Meanwhile, Twilight had noticed the mirage-like shimmer heralding the others' arrival nearby, and she moved swiftly to meet them. Balefire; sword drawn, appeared ready for anything, but he was looking around in alarm. "Mea! Mea is not with us! What has transpired here...?" Indeed, the lovely elf was nowhere to be seen. They conducted a quick but futile search of the surrounding area, before Twilight led the party to Thule's corpse, describing his final, cryptic words as they walked. J'layah had lain him on his back with arms crossed over his chest, replaced his dusty eye patch and was still kneeling over the body, apparently deep in thought.***
Balefire's visage had gone from anger to concern to thoughtful frown, as he listened to Twilight's description of the one-eyed Thule's last moments. His frown deepened as he watched J'layah's odd behaviour. Snarling in frustration at the area's resistance to magic, he gave over his futile attempts to read J'layah's mental state. Magically dead zone or not, there was something about that corpse that was not quite right. It almost felt like the presence of a zombie or lich, but it wasn't really either of those. Though clearly dead, something about Thule's corpse struck warning bells in the veteran Warmage's mind. Decades of suspicion and alertness to dangers both seen and unseen had honed his senses to inhuman sharpness, and some sense, magical or not, told the big Dark Elf that Thule's remains bore closer investigation. He didn't like J'layah's bemusement, either...it struck him as unnatural coming so soon after the outburst of which Twilight had spoken.
*** "Wha...? Oh, I was just...preparing him for burial. He has certainly suffered aplenty, and is no longer of any threat to us." She looked up at her companions and frowned. "Where is Mea?"***
Twilight's raised eyebrow mimicked Balefire's as their gazes met upon hearing J'layah's comment. Something about the young woman was not quite right. "Suffered aplenty", indeed! With an unobtrusive mercenary hand signal, the Warmage warned Twilight to be silent and observe. Impassively, the Dark Elf mercenary spoke to J'layah.
"I can bear that scum's demise with equanimity, J'layah, and his burial can wait a bit. As for Mea, I fear she has become separated from our party during the teleport. I'm not sure, but it seemed just at the last moment as if she was reaching out to touch *your* hand in my scrying picture, instead of that of one of us. I sensed her presence when the teleportation spell initiated, though, so my best guess is that she may have materialised some distance away. A matter of no more than a few leagues, I would think, or I would have felt it. Curse this anti-magic zone! If not for it, 'twould be a simple matter to locate her."
He sighed heavily, and started to pace, slowly drawing closer to the corpse of the one-eyed man as if by accident. "Tell me, J'layah, what do you make of this talk of your sister being in two places at once, and what action do you counsel? I have heard and read of separating souls from living bodies; 'tis a foul sorcery sometimes used to force the victims to perform some action they would ordinarily refuse, or sometimes as a form of extortion for the victim's friends or relatives. The soulless body grows weaker in time, waxing listless and forgetful, and eventually dies. The soul, without a body to return to, is then trapped forever. Some theorists have proposed that if set free of their material prison -- usually a gem -- they may become wraiths, but if any have proved such, it has not been written of." He wandered closer to Thule's corpse as he spoke.
Twilight turned her head, avoiding the eye-searing reflection of the pitiless sun off Balefire's Daedric armour. She had quietly gathered her muscles into spring-like tension, ready to pounce should J'layah do anything strange. In even, calm tones, she spoke to her. "Ordinarily, I would counsel going immediately to protect your sister's body, while some of us sought her soul. It seems a teleport from here is out of the question, though, so it behoves us to seek the gem first. I like not this mystery of "feeding the Heart", and I think 'twould be best if you returned Balefire's ring to him."
J'layah's "No!" rang out as her hands flew to protect the ring and she gathered herself to run. Twilight sprang to restrain her from escape, her black-mailed arms encircling J'layah like bands of steel. At the same instant, Balefire's claymore flashed in the sun, its point coming to rest at the throat of the one-eyed man's corpse. "Something lives here still, albeit not Thule," he bellowed, "'tis a presence of some kind inhabits this dead meat, and I will swear that it listens to us." Bizarrely, his sword steady at its throat, the scarred Warmage mercenary began to shout at the sun-blasted corpse. "Speak, or manifest yourself, whatever or whoever you be! By Arkay, if you do not make yourself known, I will take this envelope of flesh you wear and slice it into gobbets so small a worm will snub them! Show yourself, I say!"
***J'layah's "No!" rang out as her hands flew to protect the ring and she gathered herself to run. Twilight sprang to restrain her from escape, her black-mailed arms encircling J'layah like bands of steel. At the same instant, Balefire's claymore flashed in the sun, its point coming to rest at the throat of the one-eyed man's corpse. "Something lives here still, albeit not Thule," he bellowed, "'tis a presence of some kind inhabits this dead meat, and I will swear that it listens to us." Bizarrely, his sword steady at its throat, the scarred Warmage mercenary began to shout at the sun-blasted corpse. "Speak, or manifest yourself, whatever or whoever you be! By Arkay, if you do not make yourself known, I will take this envelope of flesh you wear and slice it into gobbets so small a worm will snub them! Show yourself, I say!"***
As Balefire's challenge rang out J'layah, who had been straining vigorously to escape Twilight's arms, suddenly became rigid, her eyes rolling back in her head until only the whites showed. Sensing something was about to happen, Twilight tightened her grip and braced herself for the unexpected. J'layah arched her back - almost to breaking point (oh, she would pay for *that* bone-popping manoeuvre the next day!), then without warning she sagged limply, Twilight hard-pressed to catch her before she hit the ground.
A shadowy form detached itself from J'layah's own shadow and slithered across the ground to Thule's corpse, which began to rise with awkward, jerking movements, until it stood upright, swaying unsteadily as it surveyed the group. Thule's single eye glowed red with a soul-chilling malevolence. Balefire stepped back a pace, but his sword remained levelled at the corpse's throat. The rest of the party shifted somewhat nervously, weapons at the ready (with the notable exception of Alduin, who was scribbling furiously on some parchment). In a rasping, disembodied voice the creature that had been Heeram Thule finally spoke. "The heart.......Do...not...feed......the...h..." "Faugh! I grow weary of this enigmatic posturing!" With a single contemptuous swipe, Balefire separated Thule's head from his body, and for the second time that day Thule died. This time he stayed dead.
Balefire turned his back on the decapitated cadaver, and marched over to where Twilight and Tabanallis were kneeling over J'layah's unconscious form. From his backpack Tabanallis produced a small glass vial containing a greenish liquid, which he unstopped and waved under her nose, and in less time than it takes to execute a decent yawn, she was awake. "Wh-what happened?" she asked Twilight.
"You were possessed by an evil spirit of sorts," replied Twilight whilst trying to ascertain whether J'layah was really herself once more. "Do you recall anything?"
J'layah thought for a minute. "I remember leaning over to spit on Thule's body, and seeing some kind of light, and then nothing. No, wait!" J'layah rubbed at her temples and frowned in concentration. "I heard a voice, commanding me to do.....things, and I could not disobey. It was awful!" She paled visibly at the memory.
"Perhaps you had best return Balefire's ring ere we move on," urged Twilight gently. J'layah nodded and reached inside her shirt for the thong on which she'd hung the ring, but her hand came away empty. "Well?" Balefire was looking at her expectantly, and she suddenly found it difficult to return his gaze. In a small voice she said "I am afraid I have........swallowed it." !"
***As he made his way over, he finally came upon them. His surprise at the presence of people was compounded by the oddness of the sight. There, standing contemplatively over a blackened husk of a man who he presumed was dead, were two women. He stepped forward to address them. "Well," he said, "What brings a couple of women like you out to this end of the desert."***
As he spoke, a party of heavily armed mounted warriors flashed into existence, and much searching, shouting, and threatening of corpses took place. Confused and reluctant to blunder into whatever strange events were taking place, he was just thinking of calling someone's attention to him again, or maybe quietly moving away from a situation that appeared in no way normal, when the raven-haired elf woman, dressed as she was in Ebony plate, and restraining another female in oddly mismatched and poorly fitted armour, addressed him.
Her sonorous voice clashing oddly with her icy tone, Twilight looked over at the big black-mailed newcomer and demanded, "And just who, by Akatosh's Tail, might *you* be? I warn you that I grow weary of traps and mysteries, and I give you this advice for free: look around you and realise you are in the presence of enough angry and frustrated death-dealers that whatever you say had better sound very damned good, or someone is certain to ensure that you get to keep yon sunburned carrion company. And keep your hands well free of those Katanas I see, unless you are *really* curious to learn how to eat with your feet. If I weren't occupied with my friend here, you'd probably already be wearing a couple of my daggers in your throat, and if you think your size means something, have a good look at Balefire over there --yes, he's *that* Balefire. I figure he has an easy 70-pound weight advantage, and maybe six inches in reach, on you...and you don't know what "fast" means until you've seen him in action. And there's Elfiran, and Tabanallis, and that Redguard is giving you a *very* evil look...so speak, stranger, but stay peaceful." !"
Good grief, There seem to be more people than I imagined, I now could see another large blob moving towards what I'm hoping to be my companions.
Oh what the hell, I drank the last of my water and started to sprint (okay, trot it's a little hard to sprint in chain) however it did help me get closer to the situation, and to my surprise I did see my friends there, but what's going on, Here's Twilight hanging on to J'layah, like she is Daedroth incarnate or something, and there is this stranger, kinda standing there arms akimbo and Twilight seems to be working up a storm ( for the first time I was glad that magicka didn't work here, I've seen Twilight's display of skill ) if I was the stranger I would keep a close eye on those daggers that Twilight so handily keeps ready.
Thinking all this, I thought it to be a rather good idea if I stopped announcing my self, so I put the mirror away and with my stealth ability hid behind a quite large heap of bones and sand that sorta looked like a triangular shaped hill, and watched and listened what was to happen. !"
***Her sonorous voice clashing oddly with her icy tone, Twilight looked over at the big black-mailed newcomer and demanded, "And just who, by Akatosh's Tail, might *you* be? I warn you that I grow weary of traps and mysteries, and I give you this advice for free: look around you and realise you are in the presence of enough angry and frustrated death-dealers that whatever you say had better sound very damned good, or someone is certain to ensure that you get to keep yon sunburned carrion company. And keep your hands well free of those Katanas I see, unless you are *really* curious to learn how to eat with your feet. If I weren't occupied with my friend here, you'd probably already be wearing a couple of my daggers in your throat, and if you think your size means something, have a good look at Balefire over there --yes, he's *that* Balefire. I figure he has an easy 70-pound weight advantage, and maybe six inches in reach, on you...and you don't know what "fast" means until you've seen him in action. And there's Elfiran, and Tabanallis, and that Redguard is giving you a *very* evil look...so speak, stranger, but stay peaceful."***
Taken back a bit by the unfriendliness of his reception, Torgath cleared his throat. "Be really careful," he thought, praying that the others would assume the sweat pouring down his face was from the desert heat. "One wrong move and they'll skewer you. You didn't come to the desert to die now, did you?"
Torgath slowly extended his hands, palms up, in a gesture of peace. "I assure you I meant no insult," he began, "but my manners were never terribly good in the first place, and being in the desert for weeks hasn't helped much. On my word, I mean you no harm. I am Torgath the Reaver. I entered this desert six weeks ago on a quest for the head of Asmoneas."
He looked around, and seeing no change in the others, took a deep breath and continued, getting more nervous in each passing moment. "You're the first people I've seen in ages, and your presence makes me gladder than my introduction probably would have had you believe. I apologise for any offense I have given you. I would appreciate the company, if you would have me." !"
The six watchers lay motionless on their stomachs on the sandy ridge, their sand-caked armour making them invisible to the white plain below. On the plain and upwind from them was a most unusual sight. The watcher with the keenest eyes had picked out a man staked to the desert floor, quite dead. Two armed figures stood over him, debating something. Their words carried badly on the thin air. One thing was certain: these people were not supposed to be here.
A watcher touched the arm of their leader.
"There. Just as I said."
Another figure was making its way over the tortured earth. It had just veered toward the figures standing over the corpse. This third figure was indeed the first thing the watchers had seen.
The leader nodded slightly. Though no one save one of the watchers could read him, he was terrified. No one should be here; not one living thing.
They watched.
The third figure arrived at the corpse and seemed to speak with the two figures. Women. He did not know where this intuition came from, but the leader knew the first two figures to be women. He could not see them clearly from this distance. They were little more than smudges. Something in their stance perhaps?
The same watcher touched his arm again.
"What do you think?"
At that moment, there was a sound like thunder growling, but softer. A flash of light, then a new group of figures appeared not far from the first. All were mounted. Also, far off to the side; a second flash, and alone figure stumbled across the sand and bone.
"Well?"
The remaining watchers were uncomfortable, for they knew the youngest of their number had just overstepped his bounds. The leader did not spare him a glance, but kept his black gaze on the ever-increasing party gathering around the body.
"What is there to think?" asked the leader. "These people should not be here. They cannot be here, and yet they are. And there is yet the matter of the dead. Lord Th'Sollar walks again."
At the mention of the great man's name, all heads were bowed save one. She continued to watch the interactions of those below. All did not seem well there. The moment of respect passed.
They watched. !"
The door slammed shut and heads turned as grey cloaked figure stormed into the common room. The figure went straight to the innkeeper and ordered a cup of hot tea and a room for the night. Above the voices it the following was audible, 'Ahh good to see you again Pilar, Yes good Nord 4 gold pieces for the night.' The figure threw off the soaked grey cloak to reveal a head of thick red hair and a muscular body clad in Daedric armour with the fabled ebony mail covering her chest and a glowing Daedric Dai-Katana at her side. She muttered, 'Arkay save me, I need a hot bath.' With that she took off up the stairs to her room.
About an hour later she reappeared in the common room in a long grey dress and slippers. She appeared much less threatening now and people all around the room stole glances at her. Pilar Kent was quite a sight. The waitress delivered another cup of hot tea to her table as Pilar took a look at the common room and saw something that chilled her blood. With that, she shouted and her hands flashed as she disappeared...or did she....
Within minutes Pilar burst into the room back fully armoured and with a death glare on her face. The common room was in chaos with shouts and screams at what had made Pilar disappear. It was a Daedroth, ugly, green, and making its blood curdling shrieks. With a few swipes of her sword Pilar reduced the Daedroth to a corpse. Just as everyone rushed to give their regards to her, she collapsed into the arms of a stranger. She managed to utter a few words, 'coven...bluff...disease...help...curse..' and then all that was heard was the rasping of her breath as she lay unconscious in the arms of a stranger... !"
Two softly guttering torches lit the vast hall of bone. The ruddy light glinted off the skull-paved floor; ten thousand empty eyes stared into it. The throne of obsidian and bone rose between the torches, a great monolith of night. Though the torches were near, no light touched it. Before the throne lay a pedestal, short and squat, ringed with tiny skulls. Sapphires and emeralds graced each eye socket, capturing the torchlight in a dance of pixie-light.
A great ruby two fists large was set on the pedestal, supported by gold fingers. The stone was perfectly smooth and of roughly triangular shape. From the dark recesses of the throne, a white hand reached out and lightly touched the ruby. The stone throbbed, almost imperceptibly, under the hand. It stirred in its slumber but could not waken.
"Soon."
The figure bent his thought to the Citadel. He felt it's every room, its every corridor. Slowly, his thought reached the outer walls. There he stopped, encountering the great battlefield beyond. With monstrous effort, he pushed his thought beyond the walls, inching across the desert.
There! Movement. Blood!
It was here. The figure could not push further. With a deep sigh, he withdrew his thought and bent it to the gemstone. He breathed deeply again and reclined back into his throne.
"Soon." !"
***"Perhaps you had best return Balefire's ring ere we move on," urged Twilight gently. J'layah nodded and reached inside her shirt for the thong on which she'd hung the ring, but her hand came away empty. "Well?" Balefire was looking at her expectantly, and she suddenly found it difficult to return his gaze. In a small voice she said "I am afraid I have........swallowed it."***
"Swallowed it. I see. 'Tis a large ring, so I suppose I must assume yon dead assassin's will caused you to do that...it cannot have been pleasant." The big Dark Elf sighed and muttered something too softly to hear, which may have been just as well for J'layah, judging from the expression on his face. "Well, what's done is done. I see that we must keep you close by, though, until we locate your sister's gem-trapped soul and reunite it with her body. It appears that my ring figures in this somehow, and whatever 'Heart' that carrion over there was prattling about. Doubtless the castle yonder must be our next destination. It looks a grim place, and I hope it contains at least some fell inhabitants...I feel like killing something." He said this last with a snarl that left no doubt of his seriousness, nor of his mood.
Twilight, calm as ever, laughed softly. "Aye, Milord Balefire, and there's naught new in that. Meanwhile, have you been observing the flashing from over there? While you -- and I, for that matter -- were busy, I saw what looked like a signal of some kind. Too regular for aught that's natural, methinks..."
The Warmage sheathed his sword with obvious reluctance and barked a brief and mirthless laugh. "Aye, I noted it, and I noted some stealthy movement after, as well. Let us ride over there toward those piles of...bones, are they? I'll wager that we find Mea, very sensibly keeping away from this war party-turned-circus. 'Swallowed', indeed, by all the gods...what have I done to deserve this?"
"Well, milord, if you put it that way, there was the time in Dwynnen with that innkeeper's twin daughters, when..."
"Never mind, Twilight! Just get on your horse, and let's ride. And, J'layah...I would take it as a personal favour if you would be very careful what you swallow from now on." With a swirl of his blood-red cape, Balefire mounted and rode off, leaving the others to follow. !"