Private Tower Of Tyranny [18+]

[MagicBlade]

Svengal stopped when the elf ran infront of them. 'That's the spirit! We could use someone like you, now following along, and while ya at it, tell us about yourself, eh?' After she ran behind, he continued at a slow jog, past WhiteRun Stables. Svengal waved to his friend Skulvar, and Skulvar waved back. Svengal looked to his side, hoping they where keeping up.

 

[Delusional]

"I want to join you in this...task of yours!"

The Bosmer ran in front of the group, halting them. 'That's the spirit! We could use someone like you, now following along, and while ya at it, tell us about yourself, eh?' Svengal asked as they passed through the city gates and headed out into the plains of Whiterun.

"Ah, I knew you wanted him dead. Welcome to the crew," Ri'Visah said as he looked at the Bosmer, who was a good deal shorter than the rest of the posse, and rather small, but that did not detract from an intimidating look.

"And your name is..?"

 

[Artemis Shadows]

"And your name is..?"
Cyn gave the Khajiit a large grin, "The name's Cyn. As for what I can tell you all about myself...hmm...I used to be a member of the Companions, I've yet to meet a person that can beat me at drinking, and I can charm my way out of nearly any situation". She was beginning to feel at ease with her new companions and cursed herself at how easily she got close to people. She really hated that about herself. Show her one once of kindness and BAM, friends for life.
Cyn sighed mentally.
"So what about you all?" she asked politely. Feeling the need to get to know everyone better, after all she was travelling with them.

 

[MagicBlade]

'Name's Svengal the Bold, that enough?' He mocked, chuckling. As much as she was going to useful in the battle, she was going to be useful to make fun of, in Svengal's mind He continued to press on, leading the pack towards Solitude, where their prey awaits.

 

[Delusional]

"So what about you all?" Cyn asked, to which the burly Nord replied with, 'Name's Svengal the Bold, that enough?'

Ri'Visah smirked once again, and said "I am Ri'Visah, master of shadows. Pleased to meet you... Cyn." He looked over at her and bowed, while a slight smile crossed his face.

The group continued on down the road, leading further and further from Whiterun. Ri'Visah reached down to his waist to check for the familiar feel of his daggers. I cannot let myself grow too comfortable, and docile. I must stay on guard. He looked around, surveying the faces of his fellow companions, and smiled.

Ah, yes. This will work perfectly, he thought to himself deviously.

 

[ZPfor3]

Estrid ran to catch up to the new member and said, "Name's Estrid." and held out his hand for Cyn to shake. Cyn looked at the hand and took it with a firm, hardened grip. Estrid was taken aback by the sheer surprise of such a firm handshake from a such a tiny figure. After regaining his composure he said, "I am an expert in Destruction magic, mainly shock spells. I am different than most mages, as I wear Heavy Armor, but I just like being squishy like those other mages that wear robes."

Cyn looked Estrid up and down, no doubt sizing him up. Estrid prepared to ready his spells if needed, but Cyn just laughed and said, "I don't blame you. I always wondered why being a mage entitled you to wearing those thin robes." Estrid could tell he liked this girl, and felt guilty for evening think about turning on his spells. Can't be too careful, Estrid thought.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

After the bosmer blocked them, Maquiavel's thoughts about Ri'Visah changed drastically. "Well well... If the khajiit has the persuasion in his blood! Assassin, persuasive, a valuable member." She was judging everyone in the group, one of the most annoying things mankind likes to do. The plan sounded more elaborate, the one Svengal had told, but if Maquiavel was to rely on his weakish flames, Estrid would have to work harder on his spells. Maybe fighting alongside the mage would aid raising his opinion about him. "Name's Maquiavel, forsworn, torturer, children hater, enchanter, sick of telling the same story..." All his mind could think about was chopping Feyydon's arms and beating him to death with them, not petty introductions. "Once again, I already have dibs on any children in the palace. Who knows... Maybe I will make them hagravens, or use them as a bait for bears and sabre cats, if I am feeling merciful." He mentally laughed at his words. As if he would be so kind... In order to not disgust any of his temporary companions, Maquiavel decided to zip his mouth about any source of pain related words and change to another theme. It took some awkward silent moments until he found one. "Can you tell me your reasons for wanting to kill this poor soul?" He didn't care much about their plans after the king's death, but it could kill some time and get some knowledge about who his traveller assassins really were.

 

[Delusional]

"Can you tell me your reasons for wanting to kill this poor soul?"

Maquiavel's words brought back painful memories. Ri'Visah cringed, trying to hide his anger and overwhelming sorrow.

"That is a rather long story, and I would rather not delve into it..." Ri'Visah trailed off, forgetting himself...

-

A round of laughs burst from the carriage, carrying through the dense forests of Southern Skyrim.

The carriage continued down the path, barreling over potholes and jostling the band of Khajiits who rode along in the back.

"Hey, what's that?" Dro'Khaaz asked, pointing off into the distance, to a cluster of lights. "It looks like torches, and it sounds like several carriages. I hear horses, and metal clinking..." J'zergaa observed as the wagon drew closer and closer to the source of the noise and light.

As they approached the source, they saw a checkpoint of soldiers, all clad in leather tunics, with steel swords sheathed at their hips and some with quivers and bows slung over their shoulders. "This must have something to do with that ongoing civil war I continue to hear about..." Dro'Khaaz stated.

The wagon then came to a jarring halt, and a few of these soldiers came around to the rear end of the wagon. "What is going on here?" Ri'Visah demanded, standing up out of his seat. Then suddenly, they heard and sharp noise of steel being drawn, and the Khajiits looked over just in time to see their wagon driver pulled off his seat, his body thrust onto a waiting steel sword...

Ri'Visah returned to reality. He shook his head, trying to cleanse his mind of the horrors. "...Ri'Visah? You there? Friend?" Estrid was at his side, Ri'Visah realized. "Yes, yes, sorry. I... uh... spaced off. No worries." He sputtered nervously, shrugged Estrid away, and faced forward again.

Oh, I cannot wait to arrive at Solitude...

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

The khajiit wandered off. Moon sugar, Maquiavel would say. Well, not telling his objective to kill the King would mean not knowing the man's interests, nor what he would do to achieve them. People that still had to tell were Estrid, Cyn, Svengal and obviously Maquiavel. "So, mage... What do you profit with Feyydon's death? In love with the High Queen? Stormcloak? Heartbroken by the High King? Ordered your death and you want payback? Killed your family? Urge to kill someone above you? Why, Estrid?" He smirked. So many reasons one would want to kill another. Men like Maquiavel were the ones who usually earned profit by those reasons and feelings. Then he faced Svengal. "You... you are the one who arranged our little hobby. Your reason can't be hidden from us, I trust? Feyydon made you mad by some meaningless politics?" His reasons were direct and not painful at all. Sure, the King in rags was executed, as well as the rest of the prisoners in Cidhna Mine, but Maquiavel had a breton above everyone else in his list: Maquiavel. As long as he stayed alive, and so did the forsworn, he couldn't care less about who died. "And we cannot forget about the bosmer. Why would Cyn decide to join us in such a hurried time like the one we chose to depart from Whiterun? Royal hunters keep your prey scarce? Or are you bored with your life and decided some action could not harm at all?" His hands trembled very noticeably. The breton tried to stop them, but it was a useless effort. The need of strangling and hurting was increasing and making him lose control over his own body. Maquiavel smiled at the rest of the group, pretending everything was fine. Why didn't bandits show up when he needed to kill?! His hands lowered and grabbed the hilt of the two forsworn swords that were on his back. Then he slid them lower and pressed his thumb against one of the spikes, opening a small wound, making it bleed. In a hurry, he sucked the blood out of it until it healed. "Yes... soon you will taste more blood." He whispered somewhat loudly, caressing the blooded sword's hilt.

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Estrid seemed nice.
In fact all of her new companions seemed nice, in their own...odd ways. Everything was going smoothly and Cyn wondered if this was a odd bit of a luck.

Well...she thought that until HE spoke.

Maquiavel, he called himself. He sickened her. Made her finger twitch and she found herself wondering how long it would take to send his soul to Oblivion where it belonged. Ah, yes. She thought this, but her face was a mask made to resemble that of a naive child. What they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

Of course as for her reason why joining this band of murderers...Hm.
I can't say that it's for Orgnir. Or for..myself. Three years. THREE YEARS I SPENT...No...they don't need to know that much.

"Um, I only joined well....because I want Skyrim to be free again" she gave a small, innocent smile and said nothing more on the subject. The answer was good enough. Perhaps vague, but these people who only saw her for her childish nature would probably not think twice on it.
That's how things normally went anyway.

 

[Delusional]

"Um, I only joined well....because I want Skyrim to be free again" Cyn replied to Maquiavel's question, clearly disturbed by the man. She said nothing after that, ending the conversation with a small smile.

"Nothing else?" Ri'Visah asked, intrigued. There must be a bigger reason than that. There must be a bigger reason for all of these here, willing to take such a trek just to end one man's life... Something like this required much more of a motive... Ri'Visah pondered, but said nothing else, knowing that the elf hardly trusted any of them.

Why should she? She tagged along at the last second, and Ri'Visah knew it wasn't because of his words. She is hiding something, just like I am...

... but if I can't bring myself to tell anyone here, why should she have to? He was conflicted, and looked down in deep thought.

The memories came flooding back as he thought. The soldiers. The slaughter and butchering. His escape, and watching, hidden, from the thick foliage... oh god. It hurt for Ri'Visah to even think about this. He needed to clear his mind. He withdrew a small phial from a hidden pocket in his cloak and uncorked it.

It has been a long while since this was necessary... He thought as he downed the liquid and emptied the phial.

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Cyn simply answered Ri'Visah's question with a small nod.

All the while inspecting the small phial. Was that Skooma, perhaps? Cyn found herself asking curiously,

"Is that Skooma, Ri'Visah? N-not that I'm prying. I tried Skooma once....had an odd effect" she mumbled the last part and cleared her throat awkwardly. The skooma she had tried made her run naked through the streets of Riften. The memory played by,

"THERE ONCE WAS A HERO NAMED RAGNAR THE RED" her tiny feet were stomping carelessly on the ground as she ran through Riften. Just her luck a guard halted her, "Hey! Put some clothes on! Public indecen-" Cyn ran past him and through the gates of Riften and into the woods. "WHEN HIS UGLY RED HEAD ROLLED AROUND ON THE FLOOR" she yelled as she dodged the trees and rocks that blocked her path.
The guards at the gate exchanged looks and shrugged.

She had woken the next morning in a tree. Cyn never tried Skooma ever again.
EVER. AGAIN.

 

[Delusional]

"Is that Skooma, Ri'Visah? N-not that I'm prying. I tried Skooma once....had an odd effect" Cyn asked him curiously, eying the phial he held, now empty.

"What? Oh... uh..." He sputtered nervously, embarrassed that Cyn caught him. Damn it, why did you not just sneak the phial back into your pouch, you nimwit! Ri'Visah shouted at himself.

"...yes. It is. I won't deny it." He had more honor than to lie, and he let out a deep sigh.

Cyn looked at him curiously. Her experiences must lead her to believe the same will happen with him.

"It... helps put me at ease. I... it's a long story, and... well... I'd rather not speak of it." Ri'Visah stumbled several times as he spoke, slightly because of the embarrassment, but now mainly because the memories lingered. His eyes dropped to the ground, and the worn path he was treading on.

Damn it, skooma, work! Put my mind at ease! He shouted on the inside, demanding, willing the drug to seep into his bloodstream and fill his mind with emptiness.

 

[Artemis Shadows]

Studying emotions and body language is something Cyn took pride in. She could tell by Ri'Visah's actions he was embarrassed and worked up. In an attempt to calm him down she patted his shoulder warmly,
"I understand. We do what we have to". Cyn gave the Khajiit a warm smile and took her hand away.

Yes, she understood why people did those sorts of things. Even she, had done crazy things to keep herself at ease.
Now though, she took to hunting.
Her eyes scanned the outlying area, almost instinctively out of the mention of 'hunting'.

 

[Delusional]

"I understand. We do what we have to." Cyn said comfortingly, with a smile, and patted Ri'Visah's shoulder.

He was taken aback, and looked at the Bosmer with surprise. No one had ever showed him affection in his life, the closest bonds he had in his lifetime were the bonds he had with his guild members, and well, they were all gone. Dead and gone.

Ri'Visah smiled at Cyn, and said, "Thank you."

He looked away, and noticing he still held the empty phial, he quickly slid it out of view before any of the others could notice.

He eyed the distant treeline, and realized there were no wildlife. The plains of Whiterun that surrounded them, that did not cease until they disappeared off into the horizon, were void of animals.

How very strange... Ri'Visah thought, glad to be focused on something other than his gruesome past.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

The khajiit and the bosmer where exchanging skooma experiences. Oddly enough, Mauiavel had never tried any. Since he tried the Briar Heart his stamina needed no further artificialization. Two of the remaining men didn't speak about their reasons or purposes yet. "Fine... I will tell you exactly every single reason of mine for fighting this bastard!" His pupils shrinked as if he suddenly became a reptilian eyed man. "I have joined the forsworn long ago... And the troops of the highness have been causing some trouble in raiding Markarth. When their strateg dies, so do their wins." His hand finally stopped trembling. "Then... there is... Brutus!" He swung his foot against a small pebble to kick it far away.

Back in Falkreath when Maquiavel was young a boy named Brutus was the bully of the town. He didn't beat Maquiavel up, but mocked him a lot. Too much of a lot in fact. One day, he picked up a nail and a slingshot, aimed for Brutus' eye, but was caught by his mother before he could blind or kill the boy. The next day his parents abandoned him in the wilds and left the province, afraid Maquiavel could not be raised by any human or civilization. After some wandering, he met the Forsworn, and his story progressed.

A few days earlier, Maquiavel found out Brutus ended up being a high ranked legionnaire of Feyydon, and what a best chance to avenge himself than at war? "Let's just say I owe him a lot of physical and emotional pain. After some bribing and stalking, I found out the man is happily married, has kids, got rich out of his job as a troop of Feyydon. Life will stop smiling at him when the man kneels to me. Let's not exclude his family... I will promise all the things I will do to his kids and wife, and I keep my promises! If we drop by Markarth, let me make a quick stop at his manor." Yes... seeing his former bully crying in front of the head of one of his children, kneeling about to be executed was making Maquiavel anxious, so anxious... The group didn't appear to like his revenge and killing methods, somethingthey were not obligued to anyway. "What? At least I told something where you can immediatly figure out my situation! I am not afraid of telling my purpsoes are war and war only!" He let out a sigh to relieve his anger. "Let's just get to Solitude... There is pain to be equaled..."

 

[Artemis Shadows]

This Maquiavel shouted as if the group was all judging him.
That might be, but not openly.
So why did this man seem to have so much built up rage? Cyn didn't understand. She also did not like it.
She had seen men driven to madness by anger. By a thirst for revenge.
Cyn wanted revenge as much as the next person but she would not let that mask who she was. Ah, but who's to say this man wasn't born insane?

Switching her thoughts from the Forsworn man to the outlying area, she found it curious how not a single deer or elk was seen.
Odd.
The plains are normally filled with fresh game, small and large. But not even a skeever was seen hiding in the grass. That fact made Cyn a tad paranoid. She bit her lip and glanced around, the sudden chirp of a bird made her flinch.
Curse her elven ears and their ability to hear better than man.
Cyn pretended to dust off her sleeve, passing of the flinch as nothing. These strangers were curious of one another and she didn't like questions. It made her feel like she was strapped to a table and facing the Inquisitor......again.
Cyn shuddered at the memory and closed her eyes, walking blindly and silently.

 

[ZPfor3]

Estrid had remained silent about Maquiavel's question. He had been pondering on whether or not to tell the group of what happened He was somewhat embarrassed about his reasons for wanting the King dead.When he spoke, he said, "My reasons, just plainly, are that the King closed my home, the College of Winterhold. He sent his troops in, killing my Arch-Mage and good friend, Savos Aren. The College grounds turned into a battlefield. 17 Mages against 150 Legion soldiers. I tried to convince the other mages that this wasn't a smart idea, that we needed to flee and strike back at a different time, but no one listened. While my classmates stayed and fought, I ran into town and hid. I know, it was cowardly, but I thought that some would see reason, and join me! Alas, when the fight was over, I snuck into the college. I got there just in time to see 5 executions."

Estrid thought about Brelyna, one of his classmates he had started to go feelings for. She was the first execution he witnessed. Even just thinking about it brought tears to his eyes.

He turned from the from the group and stared off in the distance, cursing himself for showing emotion. Now they will never believe that is the real reason. He looked back at the group and only Cyn and Ri'Visah were looking at him, but Ri'Visah had a dazed look about him. I think I will like this group, he thought, even if he thought Maquiavel might kill him in his sleep.

He looked ahead and thought, This is for you, Brelyna. For you.

 

[Delusional]

Ri'Visah was beginning to feel the skooma kick in, freeing his mind from his past. It felt wondrous.

He looked around, the plains of Whiterun now clearer than before, the sunlight even brighter than before. It felt like he saw everything. And heard everything, too. He could hear the rustling of branches...

...wait, rustling of branches? Ri'Visah snapped back to attention, but the skooma still weighed on him mind. There are no animals... there is no way that noise is an indigenous creature... He quickly reached down and felt for the hilts of his daggers, and found them, slowly withdrawing them from his dark leather belt. He held both blades in one hand while he reached into a pocket to withdraw a phial of a new substance - not skooma.

The bushes rustled again.

Ri'Visah surveyed the nearby landscape, eying the ditches off the side of the path, trying to find the source of the noise. "Everyone, stop. And don't look suspicious." Ri'Visah said in a low, quiet voice, and the group halted, and they looked at Ri'Visah, puzzled.

Just then, the distinctive sound of steel on steel came from behind Ri'Visah, and he quickly spun around to see an Imperial Legionnaire, sword raised, about to strike down the Khajiit.

All in one movement, he tossed the phial from his hand into the Legionnaire's face, threw one of his blades into the empty hand, and charged.

The phial, which contained a deadly and corrosive poison, shattered on the man's face, searing his flesh, and screams of agony resonated across the plains. He doubled over, dropped his steel sword, and both hands went up to his now burning face. Just then, Ri'Visah was upon him, and plunged both Vengeance and Charity into the screaming Legionnaire's neck, silencing him. The lifeless body crumpled to the ground, and a large blood pool began to form on the cobblestone path immediately.

Perfectly good phial, shattered. And that poison was not easy to concoct. What a waste, Ri'Visah thought as he looked both ways, seeing Legionnaires on either side, weapons drawn, ready to strike. There must have been around 6 other Legionnaires, apart from the now dead one.

"Now we fight," Ri'Visah said, teeth clenched, and the Legionnaires charged.

 

[Artemis Shadows]

"Finally! Some real fun!"

Cyn took a few steps back as she slid her bow off her back. The rustling of her arrows in their quiver made a smirk tug at the corner of her lips. As quick as the blink of an eye, three arrows were notched and sent flying to the charging Legionnaires.
She watched victoriously as the chosen target fell with a thud. Without another moment's hesitation, she notched another arrow and sent that one flying through the air.
Her eyes narrowed, her breath became sharp and slow as her pulse slowed. Everything seemed to tick by at a leisurely pace, allowing Cyn to shoot her arrows at the moving targets.

An intake of breath, aim, exhale and let it fly.
This was nothing more than a fun game to be played, and Cyn found herself laughing every so often. Not because she was taking a life...but because of how easy it was to do it when she wanted.

Cyn knelt down on one knee, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she focused on her next target. Spotting him, she reached for an arrow and grasped nothing but air...Damn it all to Oblivion! She must have wasted her arrows on this morning's hunting trip! Her bow was placed back in it's spot on her back as she reached down into her boot. She pulled out a crude looking steel dagger.

Cyn was no master at the blade, but she could hack and slash until her enemy was dead.
She lunged forward, like a saber cat who had been waiting to pounce, and began fighting alongside Ri'Visah.