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A Strange Obsession Chapter 4


Started by Beowulf
Post #16359
Banned

144
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact (Nord)
The sun was setting. The blood red sunset was beautiful, Silvanus supposed, if you liked that kind of thing. He liked the colour, at least. Sitting in a cart with the reins in his hand and the smell of fresh air... Now that was a wonderful thing. Looking over the side of the cart, he could see a deep valley full of trees, and Mara knows what else. Silvanus grinned. Looking at the disgusting man beside him, he saw a perfect "accidental" murder. "Only one thing nicer than the sunset in Skyrim," Silvanus said. The trader looked at him, and lit up his pipe. He seemed to be interested, but Silvanus didn't care even if he wanted. He liked playing with his victims before killing them, and it was quite rare that he got the chance. He whistled, and flicked the reins, and the horses began to trot a little faster. "Not many things nicer than an evening in Skyrim, with a bloody sunset, and all that." he glanced at the trader next to him, who was looking confused. That only made Silvanus grin even harder. He'd been virtually silent throughout the journey so far, even while the fat man was questioning him.
"You seen a lot of places, then, lad?"
"Oh no," The evil youth was smirking now. He could tell that the man was getting nervous by his tone. He barely stopped himself snorting- the Nord probably thought he was going to rape him or something. He winced at the word. Rape... No. He didn't want to think about that word. He had memories of that word that he'd... rather forget. And anyway, he didn't want to spoil his good mood. He'd eaten and drank while the Nord had slept. Well, he'd drank at least. He was feeling rejuvenated, from drinking his fill, and he loved being on the road. He'd once dreamed about joining a Khajiit caravan, but the cats never liked him. He'd had an incident with a girl Khajiit traveller when he was 14, and news seemed to spread around the creatures quickly. "So... Silvanus. Why're you going to Markarth?"
"Business." He didn't feel like elaborating. He didn't like to do two things at once, and talking to the fat oaf would waste his valuable thinking time. And what was he thinking about? Well, he was planning out how he'd push the fat Nord off the side of the cart and into the valley. If he timed it just right, the Nord wouldn't get caught on any trees, breaking his fall, and just fall straight to the bottom... He could see a clear patch coming up... And...

"Goodbye, Nord." letting go of the reins, he pushed the Nord with all of his might off the side of the caravan.

He didn't go easily.

The Nord man was stronger than Silvanus had presumed, and didn't fall off immediately with the first push. That only served to anger Silvanus; he didn't like it when things didn't go his way... They'd missed the clear patch in the woods, and were struggling.

"You little bastard!" Silvanus kicked him in the ribs, and the Nord swore loudly. Then, avoiding a lusty punch to the face, Silvanus brought his knee up hard in the man's crotch, then slammed both of his fists into his face. Then, with one final kick, the Nord was falling, falling, screaming, falling... Silvanus heard a satisfying crunch. Grinning, he turned his attention back towards the road, and wrapped his hands twice around the reins. Flicking the reins hard, he set the horse off in a fast canter. He felt the merchandise fall off the back of the cart, but, uncaring, he just flicked the reins to make the horse go faster.

Silvanus had practically flown to Markarth. The roads were long and winding, but Silvanus had travelled them extremely quickly. Remarkably quickly, in fact. Maybe the fresh blood had willed him on. Maybe it had been the promise of escape. But, whichever it was, the youth found himself at the golden gates of Markarth within five hours of the "accidental" death of the fat Nord. As soon as he leapt down from cart, he was accosted by an old Breton man. "Hello, Breton, welcome home. You are from the Reach? Most Bretons in Skyrim are. Anyway, welcome to Markarth. Where'd you getcha self a nice cart like that, eh? Don't want me to take it off your hands do you? I'm the hostler here at the stables, and I could use another cart; roads are so busy nowadays, and a young 'un like yourself couldn't have much use for it..."

The boy had difficulty brushing off the old hostler. After he'd flipped him a coin to keep the cart there, Cedran (the old Breton) had clamoured to buy it from him, and eventually Silvanus had sold the carriage and kept the horse. Happily, with a pocket full of gold, he entered the Dwemer city, only to find it deserted. A dirty looking river snaked through the streets, and Silvanus scarcely avoided stepping in it. Cursing, the ends of his ragged trousers being dampened by the river, he stormed in a vague direction. He didn't know Markarth well, had only visited on about five or six occasions to see his Breton relatives. Most of them, however, would not be too pleased to see him, and that he knew. His grandparents on his mothers side, who lived somewhere near the palace, certainly wouldn't be glad to see him on their doorstep. His old friend, Muiri, would probably be pleased to see him, but he'd already decided that he would be staying with Cosnach in the Warrens. After all, Cosnach, his favourite cousin, didn't have an awkward past with him, whereas Muiri... did.

"Now where might Cosnach, a drunk be... Oh wait, I know, the tavern." he mumbled sarcastically to himself. It was rare that Cosnach was anywhere but the Silver Blood inn. He'd been slacking off work for ages, because the bloody Forsworn had been killing merchants who were trying to get goods in and out of the city. Personally, though, Silvanus thought that Cosnach was just being a lazy ass. However, he did like his cousin, so he headed towards the inn with only a little annoyance.

Kicking open the door, he walked into the bar. It was bright, brighter than the dark streets outside, and was almost completely full. It smelt of cheap alcohol and nasty tavern food. Silvanus almost gagged. He hated the stench of taverns, he hated crowds, and most of all he hated his cousin Cosnach for driving him to being in here. The bright lights burned his skin, and he hissed quietly, before pushing through the crowd, searching for Cosnach.

He found him almost immediately, of course. It would have been hard not to: Cosnach was sitting on his own, slamming down seemingly endless pints of bitter, and glaring at everyone. His shorn, blond hair was easy to make out among the dark haired crowd. Not taking his heavily-lidded eyes off Cosnach, Silvanus began to shove his way through the crowd towards him. It took him a while, Silvanus being, although tall, rather less fat and broad than some of the other pub-goers, but eventually he managed to reach the bar, and a stool next to Cosnach. Realising that the man was too drunk to recognise, Silvanus poked him hard in the shoulder. Cosnach turned to him with a snarl.
"What the hell..." he trailed off, narrowing his eyes and Silvanus, who had his eyebrows raised. "Wait a second... Hey, Sil!" "Knew you'd get there in the end."

They both got up, and gave each other a swift hug. When it was over, Cosnach took Silvanus by the shoulders, and looked admiringly down at him. "Hey, my baby cousin doesn't look so much like a baby anymore."
"Heard it all before. You're drunk." "Very."

Silvanus snorted, and sat back down in his stool. Cosnach yelled for the barmaid, a pretty Nord woman, to come over. He ordered them both wine, and she came back with a dusty bottle quickly. Cosnach handed over a few gold pieces, refusing Silvanus' offer to pay, and handed him a tankard, pouring a generous portion in both cups. He then downed his, and filled it back up. Silvanus took a mouthful and, despising the taste of the disgustingly cheap wine, swallowed. Cosnach laughed. "So, my little cousin, what brings you to Markarth?"
"Place to stay. I was going to ask if I could stay with you for a bit. Until I can take my own room in the Warrens, you know. Because I'm settling down here."

Cosnach frowned, and took another sip.

"Now why would you be wanting to settle down in Markarth, of all places?"
"Family ties, a place where I can be a Breton and not get the shit kicked out of me, that sort of thing. I'm not safe anywhere near Helgen, so... Here I am." Silvanus took a gulp. He was beginning to hate the taste a little less. "Ah, yes. And I also heard you have a warrant out on your name, you stupid bastard. What d'you do this time?"
"Killed my father," at Cosnach's sharp intake of breath, Silvanus glanced at him. "I had reason. You know my father, Cosnach." "Yes, I... I suppose. I'm not going to ask why but..." Cosnach looked deep into the dregs left in his cup. "Wasn't the best idea, Sil. Coulda just came and stayed with me if he was really getting to you... So you were at Helgen?" his voice hushed excitedly. "You saw the Dragon?"
"Oh yes." Cosnach waited for Silvanus to elaborate, but when he didn't, made another stab at conversation. "So... what was it like? Must have been terrifying..." "Sorry, but I don't want to talk about that day, Cos. Maybe another time."

Cosnach nodded, and signalled to the pretty Nord barmaid again. She was looking at Silvanus rather flirtatiously, but he hadn't seemed to have noticed. He was staring into the embers of the fire, as if transfixed. He was thinking of Astrid again...

Was she tall or short? Was she a typical muscly Nord woman, or was she slim and petite? Silvanus wondered... "I must be going insane." he muttered to himself, sipping his wine. By the Eight Divines, he'd smelled her scent and seen her handwriting and he was FANTASISING about her? Had Sheogarath possessed him? He spat out the bitter wine, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He tasted the sweet taste of blood, and looked at the back of his hand; some of the blood from the fat Nord was still crusted on his hands... He could feel the bloodlust rising in him. "Shit..." he turned to Cosnach, who didn't seem to be in the mood to leave any time soon. He was staring at the Nord barmaid very dreamily. "Cos, listen, can I have the key to your place? I need to go... now."

Cosnach nodded, and rifled in his pockets, pulling out a small key. He threw it to Silvanus who caught it, and began to walk swiftly out of the bar. Reaching the cool streets after the crushing heat of the Silver Blood inn was like an orgasm. The dark, cool air was fresh on his face, and he breathed in great lungfuls, trying to forget the bloodlust. But he couldn't help it. Lifting his hand to his lips, he licked it rapturously, and licked it again. The beautiful taste... He knew he must look insane, but he didn't care. Who was going to see him?

He recieved his answer, when a low, slow voice spoke behind him. "Goodnight, Breton." he barely had time to whip around, before the hilt of a blade caught him sharply around the head, and he fell to the floor. "What the-" he looked up, to see a hooded figure standing over him, holding a huge sword. The man, a Dark Elf, was looking sadistically down at him, showing obviously sharpened teeth. He was twirling Silvanus' ebony dagger between his fingers. But how had he got it? Silvanus, being a previous pickpocket, usually knew when someone was trying to take something from him, but he hadn't even felt this bastard taking his weapon... But there was no time to ponder, because the Dark Elf was raising his sword over his head, and Silvanus had to move! He rolled to his side, into the river, and slid downwards, avoiding the blade by inches.
"You know how to play, don't you, Coppercroft?" the Dunmer ran after him. However, the elf was slower, being older and holding weapons, so Silvanus was the faster. Whipping round a corner into a dark alley, Silvanus pressed himself against the wall, breathing hard, and trying not to be heard. He heard the elf blunder past, and tried to sneak out behind him.

However, the elf had insanely good senses, and heard Silvanus' footfall behind him. "Just when I thought I'd lost you!" he swung his sword at the youth again, and he was forced to do a lopsided forward roll to escape being sliced in two. The assassin laughed, and sliced downwards, but Silvanus was ready this time. He tackled the elf round the shins, then brought his fists both up hard into the elf's stomach. Winded, the Dunmer fell over, clattering to the floor. Silvanus ripped both blades out of his hands, and threw the sword as far as he could away, straddling the elf's waist. He then pressed the dagger to the mans neck.
"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you here, elf..." whispered the Breton, face very close to the Dunmer's. Then, he felt a stabbing pain in his arm, and swore loudly as the elf kicked him backwards. He crashed into a wall, nearly dropping his dagger in the process. The elf was holding a tiny, razor like blade, covered in the blood from Silvanus' arm. "Here's your reason: I'm gonna kill you first." He raised the razor to sink it into Silvanus' neck, but the youth ducked just in time, sliding through the assassin's legs. He pushed the elf backwards, and smashed him over the head with the hilt of his dagger. The elf dropped, unconcious.

"You can try," grinned Silvanus. "But most fail there." Then, he grabbed one of the elf's legs and, looking around cautiously, began to drag the man down to the Warrens...

The Dunmer woke up to find himself in a dimly lit room. Looking down, he saw he was almost completely naked, save for a loincloth covering his private parts. He blushed, and tried to move, but saw he'd been tied down. Raising his head up as far as his bindings permitted, he saw two men sitting at the other end of the room.

One of them was stocky, and had short, corn blond hair. He had scruffy stubble on his chin, and was not particularly good looking. He looked to be around mid twenties. The youth next to him was slim and nimble looking, but looked about the same height as the other man. He had long white-blond hair, and a fringe that covered his eyes. But he could see, that he had long-eyelashes, heavy lids, and electric blue pupils. He was very good-looking, if a little girly looking, and looked to be about 16. They were both looking at him intently. He wasn't sure he liked the look on the younger man's face.

"So, Othrelos..."
"How d'you know my name?"

Silvanus smiled nastily, and began to clean the nails on his left hand. They were particularly sharp and he loved using them in... situations like that. "Well, Othrelos, you've been asleep for quite a while you see. I knocked you out. I have some questions. And I want you to answer them. And just to warn you, the last person who didn't answer my questions got their innards spead all over the floor..." The Dunmer nodded quickly. Silvanus laughed. He absoulutely loved it when people were scared of him.

"I... yes. I understand."

"Good. Also, just to to let you know, if you show any... reluctance... to answer any of our questions, then we will persuade you with your blood. Understand?" The Dark Elf nodded again. But this time, he was smiling. "What're you smiling for, Dunmer?" Silvanus grinned too. How stupid was this assassin? Didn't he realise exactly what Silvanus was planning to do to him...?
"You're evil, Silvanus Coppercroft. I like that in a person. I'll answer your questions, because, d'you know, I quite like you."
"That's good. I'm sure we'd be the best of friends if you didn't just try to chop me in half." The two laughed, and Cosnach laughed too. Silvanus went and sat by his head, looking thoughtful.

"I wasn't looking forwards to hurting you, Dunmer. You fought well... I'll tell you what. Answer my questions, and I'll let you go."

It was then that the Dunmer noticed there was blood all over him. And that he had a horrible, pounding pain in his head. The elf began to scream. Silvanus winced apologetically. "Oh yes, and... I may have been a little too excited when we fought. In fact, I was quite surprised you woke up in the end."

The Dunmer grimaced, and rattled his bindings. "Please let me sit up." Silvanus looked at him for a second, then nodded. Cosnach handed him a dagger, and Silvanus slit the bindings holding Othrelos' neck, back, and arms down. Then, he brought him a large rock, and propped it under his back, to help keep him upright without releasing his leg bindings. Even if Silvanus liked the elf, he was certainly not stupid enough to let him go completely.

"First question," the Dunmer looked at him without fear in his eyes. He looked almost thoughtful, as if it was every day that he was strapped down, almost naked, losing a lot of blood, and being asked questions by psychopaths. "First question, are you Othrelos, a Dark Brotherhood assassin?"
"Yes." "Good," Silvanus smirked. "I knew you'd be easy. Second, was I, Silvanus Vicente Coppercroft, your target?"
"Yes." "Once again, very good. Next, who sent you?"
"I don't know who actually took out the target in your name," he shifted, then winced in pain. More blood spurted out of his arm, and Silvanus eyed it greedily. He'd drained Othrelos of more than a little blood when the elf was unconcious. "I don't know who took it, but the leader of my sanctuary..."
"Astrid."
"Yes Astrid. She told me to do it." he grinned ruefully, showing blood in his teeth. Silvanus could feel the bloodlust building up inside him, but kept it under control. He was beginning to like the way Othrelos saw things. "She said I was to kill you, and that you'd probably in Markarth, but I was to check Rorikstead too."

Silvanus was overwhelmed. Who was Astrid, and how did she know all these things? And, more importantly, who was the actual contact-giver? But the scent of lavender and nightshade filled his nostils, and impulsively, he asked one final question.

"Good. Now tell me... who is Astrid?"

To be continued ...

Also credited finsh helping me finsh this chapter goes to my girlfriend.

Enjoy.
This post was last modified: December 8th 2012 10:38 AM by Beowulf
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The following 2 users Like Beowulf's post:
Abisu, Beor of Skyrim
Post #16365
Member

259
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact
Imperial
Really good but... Cigarette? In Tamriel?
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Post #16370
Banned

144
Faction & Race:
Ebonheart Pact (Nord)
Yeah kinda got carried away with myself, so many ideas pop up on how to make this story unique in its own way... <___< I should edit that before others read this
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The following 1 user likes Beowulf's post:
Abisu




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