Red clouds blocked out the sun’s light. Lightning crackled through the air, the roar of thunder whipped the ashen waste. A tower stood in this hell, made from the blackest Ebony. Light reflected off it, making it look like a pool of black oil.
In the tower, Mehrunes Dagon paced around his throne room.
,,You and you! Fight!” He shouted at two of his Dremora. The two daedric warriors clashed, yet Mehrunes felt that this would no longer relieve his boredom. What he needed was a world to conquer but the other Daedra had forbidden him to manipulate the fate of mortals for the next hundred years.
,,Something must be done, before I go mad.” The mighty lord thought as he passed a painting of Hircine. The golden eyes of Hircine’s werewolves were like a mirror to Mehrunes’ anger. He stopped and looked at the painting closer.
,,Hircine, companion in the hunt. I remember what you told me a while ago. A new way to pass the time. Yes, I think I’ll give it a try. But, the results won’t be irreversible, the death shall be fake. It’s shallow, yes, but it will do. I hope it will.”
He sat down on his throne, ignoring the two battling Dremora. He saw upon the many worlds, paying particular attention to his favourite planet. He saw upon all versions of Nirn and picked his pawns.
Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun regained his balance before he could fall onto the warm floor. The Argonian was confused. One moment, he had been sitting in his favourite bar, the Six Fishes, nursing a nice flin. The next, he was here, in this massive chamber with Ebony walls and floor.
,,That stuff packs a punch. I must be hallucinating.” Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun thought, inspecting the bottle in his hand closely.
With a loud poof, an Imperial appeared on the other side of the room. He too looked around. Almost simultaneously, the two looked straight up where they saw a balcony. A grotesque monster stood on it, looking down at them as if he was watching a pair of ants.
,,Hear my call, mortals! I, Mehrunes Dagon, have brought the two of you here to battle for me. The winner shall receive a great reward, worthy of a Daedra. The loser shall receive……….death.” It roared with a thunderous voice.
The two mortals, the Argonian and the Imperial, looked upon each other. The Imperial laughed.
,,You want me to kill a lizard? That will be like hitting a poor dog. Look at the thing, it’s harmless.” He gloated. The man then calmly took a step forward.
,,I am Vernon Goldwine, the count of Kvatch! Bow before me, pest!” He demanded, pointing at the floor with a finger heavily decorated with expensive jewels.
The Argonian hissed angrily in return. Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun had no intention of letting that insult slip… yet, he wasn’t to keen on fighting without any weapons. Apparently, only the items he’d been carrying on his body at that moment had been brought with him. His weapons were where he left them, under his stool.
,,My weapons! I won’t fight without my weapons!” He shouted at Mehrunes Dagon. The Daedra looked disappointed, then shrugged.
,,As you wish, I will send over your weapons. But your opponent shall receive his.”
Vernon gave a nasty smirk as he felt the weight of an Ebony Broadsword in his hands. A light suit of platemail wrapped around him and his fingers were covered by a pair of gloves with ebony covering the knuckles.
,,You’ve made this even easier than it already was. This reward is mine!” The Count yelled as he dashed forwards. The Argonian held his position. He too had felt the familiar weight of his weapons. His though, were a bit more sophisticated than a heavy piece of Ebony to swing around. Vernon’s eyes widened as they stared right at the tip of the bolt speeding out of the crossbow.
The Imperial ducked to the side in time to avoid a lethal shot. The pauldron rang as the bolt bounced off it.
,,That was the greatest mistake in your life, lizard!” He growled angrily as he picked up his pace a bit further. Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun saw that his shot had failed and turned around to flee. Melee was not his strength. Besides, Mehrunes had said nothing regarding any rules. He ran for the nearest exit, his tail moving from side to side rapidly.
Argonians were not made for running. As such, Vernon caught up with his prey before he’d moved out of the arena. The Count smiled, his hand reached out to grab the Argonian’s tail. He then pulled, making the assassin lose balance and fall on his back.
,,I told you this would be easy.” Vernon gloated as he rose his Broadsword into the air. The Ebony blade was pointed right at the Argonian’s face. Vernon said nothing as he readjusted his aim.
,,But some suffering would be a nice start.”
Both made their move at the same time. Vernon stabbed downwards with his sword while Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun rolled away with the agility only an aquatic being could produce. Still, he hissed in pain as the blade cut through his tail’s skin. Vernon’s sword got stuck into the floor and the Count struggled to get it out. Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun took this chance to escape into the dark maze outside the arena. He ran past several corners and twisting passages before leaning against a wall to rest.
He looked at his tail. The wound was painful but fortunately not serious. It would heal, though he would always keep a scar there. The Argonian moved on, hoping for a place from which he could ambush the Imperial. There was one thing both combatants now knew. If Vernon could trap Always-He-Lingers-in-the-Sun in a corner within range of his sword, the fight was over. Likewise, a single bolt from the Argonian’s crossbow could decide the outcome of this battle.
Back at the arena, Vernon finally lifted his blade out of the floor. He took a few deep breaths to recover his strength.
,,Come on. The sooner you show yourself, the sooner you’ll die.” He spoke into the air. After a moment’s hesitation, he also ventured into the corridor.
Lol !
* I think that he will win...a big piece of sharp Ebony is simply just unhealthy for the ne on the recieving end...
