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RA GA DA (1/2): The Desert Demon

Started by Idriar
Post #83552

Likes Given: 206
Likes Received: 633
Faction & Race:
Aldmeri Dominion (Altmer)

Ra Ra Ra

"By Malacath, did you hear that?"

The Orc turned to the Redguard. Both of them guarded the ruin´s entrance as the other witch hunters cared for the camp and their captive. And sometimes the Orc thought to hear an angry voice over the storm. As the man didn´t answer he stared back out of the entrance of the Dwemer ruin, protected from the raging sand storm by the sophisticated Dwarven architecture. Still the howling storm was nearly ear battering so close to the entrance. Fortunately they had found this shelter before the storm started. The orc didn´t fear any weather. Yes, he even believed to be able to face such a storm, even if the other knights, warriors and mages, especially the Redguards, warned him to not underestimate the wrath of the desert. Pah. Storm was storm. But it was better to be inside than outside.

"You know..."

The orc turned to the Redguard. Finally the man spoke. But the orc knew him already. Always telling stories about how great the Ra'Gada had been, driving his kind out of hammerfell... damn Orc eater!

"This land is cursed, you know?"

Cursed? That were troubling news to the Orc.

"We shouldn´t be here. We are in greatest danger..."

The Orc placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon while the Redguard watched the Orc´s reaction smilingly. Now it seemed like finally he had found a story the Orc liked. Atleast he would listen to it. That was him. A story-teller. Unfortunately the Orc didn´t like his recent stories about the Redguards´ conquest of Hammerfell... so now he would try something else to entertain his order brother.

"It is said that once, not far from here, there was a little village of the Forebears. I would tell you its name, but there is only one person left to know it..."

Ra Ra Ra

"That village was located on an isolated oasis, not far from here. Only once or twice per year a caravan arrived there. But never planned, just by accident. So small and neclegtable was that village. But like all Forebears the people there kept up their traditions: on the day of maturity all children were sent into the desert, to survive the challenges of the Alik'r, the beasts, the sand, the heat... to return as Ra'gada one year later. Or to be devoured by the sands..."

The redguard made a break, looking over his shoulder. Only the little light from the entrance and a small fire lit up the ruin´s main room. Two other Redguards were busy to set up tents between the Dwarven debris, one was sitting idle, reading in Frandar Hunding´s Circle, three other Redguards and another Orc were searching the ruin for those damned Dwarven automatons. Two Bretons were busy dealing with the captive, a damned Breton witch, as pale as death himself.

Damn those Breton folk! They always said what great mages they were. The Redguard never had met a Breton good at magic... beside evil warlocks and witches, before ending their lives with his saber.

She was a real lucky strike against evil everywhere: being a witch, carrying several poisons and filled black soul gems, and also being a necromanceress, carrying orders from Mannimarco himself. The secrets this filthy dark sider could give after some days of torture would come in handy for the Covenant and the Redguards order.

He turned back to the orc.

"One year – it wasn´t so many years ago – all children of the village returned. And it was a day of great celebration for the entire village. Except for one family: their daugther did not return. They stood by the fences protecting the village from the wind and waited the whole day. And in the end of the day... they still stood and waited. For the next week they kept up their guard to watch out for their daugther. The next month. And the next year. But their daughter would not return...

So they turned their backs on the desert and on their daugther, for they could see no way she was still alive... But they were wrong."

Ra Ra Ra Ra

The redguard shrinked his arms. Now he had heard something out there, too. Was it a voice? Or just a strange howl created by the wind blowing through ragged rocks? The truth was, this land was said to be cursed. Of course he didn´t believe in the stories he told. But in the desert there was always one sand grain of truth. Caravans traveling through this land, just to be never be heard of again... villages not pillaged but destroyed, everyone slaughtered... bandit camps found burnt down, just like the bandits, when the army entered them to clear them out... Something bad was going on in this land...

"What had happened to the girl?"

With big eyes the Orc looked at him. Well, he had started a story, now he would tell a story.

"At first she travelled the Alik'r like her peers, always running, always hunting. And always fighting for her life. But she did quite well, probably better than her peers, helping them whenever she met one. Her family and her Ancestors would have been proud of her. She carved a spear out of a dead tree with nothing but the stones she found. Like the carnivorous beasts of the desert she was a hunter, quick and deadly. Lions. Scorpions. Seren'ts. Giant Goblins. Camel spiders. All these terrifying beasts, all way larger than her, she did not fear. For it was hers to hunt these beasts down and eat their flesh, deadly to all strangers.

But one day she thought to hear a voice in a desert field of stone and rock. And she thought it would be one of her peers, but she couldn´t find him as his voice echoed from the boulders and rocks, appearing to come from everywhere and nowhere. So, against common sense, she went deeper into the maze of sand and stone. Where she was trapped. Suddenly she couldn´t find the way out anymore, despite her excellent sense of orientation. The sun climbed high and the stones nearly started glowing, but the girl still tried to escape the mace. But then... she reached the center. And there she faced nothing but..."

Ra Ra Ra Ra Ra

The Redguard drew his saber and turned around. A sound of relief came over his lips. The four warriors from the ruins had returned, having found nothing to worry about. He was glad that in this place everything was dead. So he wouldn´t have to kill anything.

"By Malacath! What did she face?"

Sheatheing his weapon the Redguard looked with earnest at the Orc.

"Well. I could tell you that she faced a desert demon. A vile creature of the sand. An Ancient ghost from Yokuda, having followed my kind as we left the old world for this place, lead by an evil will to torture us Redguards. The demon allured the girl, casting himself into her mind, driving her insane...

Or I could tell that she faced a group of bandits, skilled warriors who overwhelmed the young girl quickly. A bunch of filthy, bad man captureing the daughter of the unknown village, turning her into their slave, doing terrible, nameless things to her, breaking her..."

He made a grave break before continueing.

"I don´t know what happened in the maze of sand and stone. I just know, the brave girl with the good heart stopped to exist."

Suddenly both of them heard a weak voice from behind. The necromanceress was awake, finally. Great. Then the torture could begin. The sooner they got the information from her the sooner they could dispatch the bloody dark enchantress. To HoonDing with the infidel! Confused and dazed the necromanceress looked around the ruin, while the Breton knights put the irons into the campfire. She soon would realize in who´s hands she was and what would happen to her. A broad smile appeared in the Redguard´s face.

Then he turned back to the Orc.

"It was some time after her family gave up the girl. They had returned to everyday life, still mourning over their lost daughter, but facing their loss like real warriors. But one day the villagers, full of alarmus and excursion, came to the family's house with news they did not know whether they were bad or good: finally their daughter had been seen outside the village fences, returned, covered in blood and scars, cruel weapons in both of her hands. But like a ghost or a mirage the girl vanished as a gust of sand hit her, just like blowing her away, back into the Alik'r.

And the family fell to great dismay, the pain of her lost daughter returned just like the hope to reunite with her. They did not listen to the villagers, that an evil spirit of sorts obsessed their daughter and that it was a trap. So they ventured out into the desert, searching for their daughter. But what they found was..."

"Please! Set me free! You scare me!"

The damn necromanceress was finally fully awake, trying to stand up and fighting against her bonds. It shook the Redguard. Even if that Breton witch was young, her voice sounded so damn young and innocent, he hardly could believe she was evil. But she was! That´s why Redguards uses no magic. It played tricks on good people´s minds. Surely this was some kind of illusion or something...

Suddenly the Orc shook his shoulder.

"Hell! What did they find?!"

"Nothing. They walked the sand for hours, being miles away from their home. Even when they searched until the evening, when the chill of the night creeps into the sand and the bones, they were unable to find their daughter nor any track or hint at her. So they returned to their village with pain and disappointment filling their hearts.

It was night already and the stars shone bright in the sky as they returned to their village. Just as bright as the fires shone, burning down their home. Shocked from the sight they ran down the dunes, yelling for help. But is was too late: the fences were on fire, the houses were on fire. Even the other villagers were on fire, screaming and yelling in pain until the flames ended their lives. The family only found one alive: it was their own daughter, standing beside the burning rubble, the smoking corpses, cruel weapons in her hands, her head thrown into her neck, laughing into the sky full of stars..."


"The other day another caravan lost its way and, by change, reached the unknown little village. Already from afar they could see pillars of smoke raising towards the sky and hoped to have found one of the larger coastal cities. But as they drew closer they just found smoking debris and rubble, the sand already starting to cover them. And they found corpses. Dozens of burned corpses, an entire village. But they also found corpses nearly untouched by the flames, but with slit throats and nearly severed heads, the sand around the corpses black with dried blood.

Suddenly they heard a voice calling from the dunes..."

"Hell! You put me on the rack! Hell! What! Happened! Then?"

Angrily the Orc shook the Redguards shoulder once more, turning the man around so that he faced him, when he suddenly noticed the dagger sticking out of his order brother´s throat.

"What the...!"


Watching the man collapsing, spitting blood on the floor, the Orc quickly drew his axe, turning to the entrance. Was there a humanoid silhouette in the sand storm?


Alarmed, his order brothers and sister let drop everything and produced their weapons. Vigilantly they drew closer to the entrance, some readying their arrows and spells, aiming for the silhouette standing movelessly in the raging sand storm. What kind of fool stood right there, being a perfect aim?


One of the Breton yelled, releasing her arrow into the storm. Several arrows were sent to the entrance, followed by a burst of frost and fire. The flames created a flash of light in the dark ruin, blinding the Orc for a moment. Raising his axe, he tried be prepared for any attack, even if couldn´t see anything.


That was the voice! A woman was yelling right in front of him! That was the voice he had heard all the time. That bloody woman had crept around in the storm, watching them, waiting for a change to attack them... Now this was his change, he would avenge his fallen order brother!

Still blinded, he struck out with his axe at the voice, hoping to hit his enemy.


He felt something hitting his axe, not the other way round. The weapon was beaten out of his hand, just as the Orc felt a stinning pain at his throat.

He tried to yell in pain, but he just heard a gargling sound and tasted the metallic flavour of blood. Instinctivelly he raised his hands to the neck, as if trying to stop the blade to cut deeper into his throat. But his hands grabbed nothing but himself, the blade was already removed. Warm blood ran over his hands, running down his arms, his chest, soaking his blue Covenant armour.

Somebody pushed him aside, he fell to hard to the wall. He couldn´t breathe anymore. His lung was burning as it was slowly filled with blood. He broke down on his knees.


A yellow shadow passed him by. A blurred vision of a person. He turned his head. The unclear, blue silhouettes of his brothers and sisters. They scurried in his hazy vision, just like the world behind a sand storm. Like through the gusts of black sand he watched his brothers and sisters falling, the yellow shadow standing above them all. His view of world turned darker. And smaller. And finally the yellow shadow was the last thing he saw before dying with open eyes.
This post was last modified: July 31st 2013, 02:54 PM by Idriar

Who controls the Septim crown?
Who keeps the Allesian Heresy down?
We do, we do

Who knocked Yokuda off the maps?
Who keeps the Dwemer under wraps?
We do, we do

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The following 1 user likes Idriar's post:
Post #83558

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Ebonheart Pact
Fantastic read as always, mysterious and suspenseful. Is this for a character you're planning?

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Post #83652

Likes Given: 206
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(July 30th 2013, 03:44 PM)Thorfinn Wrote: Fantastic read as always, mysterious and suspenseful. Is this for a character you're planning?

Yes, it is ;)

Who controls the Septim crown?
Who keeps the Allesian Heresy down?
We do, we do

Who knocked Yokuda off the maps?
Who keeps the Dwemer under wraps?
We do, we do

Like this post Reply

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