Within Deaths Grasp




Chapter 1: What I Shall Become






The wind blew violently outside the Inn, shaking the entire place. Rain cascaded down on the window so hard, it seemed it would break. Oh and the thunder, the galloping thunder, it was enough to shatter mountians. It had got to be the worst storm Cyrodil has seen in ages.


I sat atop the bed, preparing. I dressed as best I could considering my strength, the weather, and the risk of getting caught. See, my task at hand was not an easy one, but success was a must. I wore black wide pants, a dark shirt, and a black hood. I concealed a small throwing knife in my right sleeve for easy access, and of course I had a small steel dagger hidden under my pant leg, strapped to my ankle. My silver short sword was at my side, as that probably wouldn't raise suspicion.


Looking out the window, over looking the landscape, I began to rethink the mission. But I knew it must be done. So I marched out of the Inn, grabbing a small bottle of Ale before so, and gulping down every last bit. I was going to need it.


As soon as I grabbed the door knob and turned it, it flew open, almost snapping off the hinges. The rain poured in, soaking and stinging me instantly. But I just pulled on my hood, and barged out, having to use all my strength to close the door again.


As I walked against the wind out of Weye and towards the city, I began to think about what led me to that situation. Heh, " situation", now theres a word that doesn't even come close to the right term.


*******************


It all started about four months ago, when Soris Arenim took everything away from me. Everything I cared about. It seemed he had some unhealthy obsession with staves, which caused him a bit of trouble with the Mages Guild I heard. But anyways, he had come into posession of a staff that would hurl a small fire ball at anything he wished. I have had no experience in magic so I don't really know how else to explain it.


So Soris, all excited about his new toy, decided to test it out in the woods near the city. Near my house. See, I lived with my family in a small house outside the city, it wasn't much but it was enough. My wife and I enjoyed it there, especially my wife. Her name was Aileen, and she was quite a sight to behold. She had long, flowing brown locks, and the most buetifull eyes you could ever ask for. I still remember the color. Hazel. And I still remember the way they looked after her life was taken.


Oh and my son, my boy. I loved him so, even though he was at the age where it seemed he hated me and just wanted to live in the city. Through all this though, he was a good lad. Never did Aileen or I have to raise a hand to him, nor did we want to. Camron was his name. Camron Jr.. He had my name. I still remember when Aileen chose that for his name. I cryed like a little baby. I was so honored. But now he was dead. They were dead. And I was going to have my revenge.


Soris wandered into a seemingly unknown part of the woods, and started firing the staff left right and center. He didn't even seemed concerned of the fact that my cottage was just a few meters away. The blasted Dunmer.


That day my wife had been very sick, and seeing as I was pretty skilled in the art of Alchemy, I went out into the forest to collect some herbs. I was only gone for about an hour, but an hour was all that it took.


I returned to the dreadfull scene, to see my entire life engulfed in a flaming castle of death. Out of the corner of my eye, I seen Soris, dumbstruck staring at the fire.


" What did you do!?", I screamed at him, " You dirty ashlander!". I dropped the herbs and charged at the house, tears streaming down my face, fear consuming my heart, anger overpowering my soul.


Through a window I jumped, not bothering with the door. It was on the opposite side, and time was of the escense. My body hurdled through, shattering the glass, tearing my flesh. I landed in the kitchen with a role, tears were exchanged for blood .


" Aileen!", I yelled through the thick black smoke, " Camron!". Alas, there was no responce. So I tried again, and again, and again. At last, I gave up hope, fearing the worst had happened. Not having any will to go on, I dropped to my knees, face buried in my hands. I grabbed a nearby bread knife, and decided. Since the fire was not yet in the kitchen, I was just going to end it, right there. No pain, no sadness.


But then a voice arose from deep inside the ever building pile of smoke. The knife dropped from my hand, and a flame flickered in my mind, giving me the hope I ever so needed.




" H-Ho-Hon...ey...H-Oney...?". It was Aileen. Coming from the sitting room, where she fell asleep on the chair before I left. Without a second thought, I ran through the flames, gaining many burns.


I arrived in the room, to see a black, charred body, still burning. Camron. By the Nine, my boy was dead. How could I have let that happen. If only I had stayed a bit longer, he would still be here. But no, now hes dead. An incredible sadness overwhelmed me, as I dropped down beside my son. Stroking his head, I began to cry. Harder and harder untill I was downright bawling.


I calmed myself down, however, because I knew Aileen was still alive.


I hurried over to my wife, expecting the worst. But not a flame had touched her! By Azura she was going to live! I picked her up and hoisted her over my shoulder, without saying a word. For there was no time.


I headed for the door, picking up Camron's body while doing so. I was making sure that my son got the funeral he deserved. With both peices of my whole life in either hands, I crashed through the door.


As soon as doing soon, I lied both my loved ones down on the grass, safley away from the flames. Some parts of my clothing were either burnt or burning. But I didn't care. Now my face was, while being drenched in tears, hacked to a near non-reconizable disfiguration.


After exstinguishing the small flame on my deer skin coat, I layed it over Camron's corpse. " Be with the gods now son, I love you with all my heart and you shall ne-ne-". I broke off there, bursting into tears and uncontrolable sobs. My boy was...was...gone. If someone had asked me back before he died, what the most dreadfull tragedy ever was, do you know what I would say? Probably something like " Nine men trapped in mine?". But if you ask me now, my answer would be simple. " When a parent out-lives their very own child...".


I stroked his head, which was black and crispy. This was my son, but yet, it was not. For my son was not a bunch of peeling, burnt flesh. He was not something so disgusting and revolting that even the sight would make your stomach empty. He was not fire wood. He was Camron Terion Jr. And he was my pride and joy, my beacon of light in an ever-dying world. I loved him more then anything and yet, they still took him. Were my prayers and loyalty not enough? Were my constant Chapel visiting and Wayshrine travels all for nothing? It takes alot for a man to lose faith in the gods. But for this man, it took one terrifing and life-altering event.

My wife's breathing started to slow, along with her pulse. Smoke inhalation had taken its toll. What I was then forced to do, I thought would happen as I was on my death-bed at a very old age. I had to say good-bye to my wife.



" A-Ailee-en...I-I-I love you...with every fiber of my being. Be at peice now...". I burst out again, as my wife's soul slowly ascended from this world. I fell over her body screaming to the heavens.


" Why!? Why have you taken them!? You " All-knowing, all-powerfull" bastards!". I kissed Aileen for the last time, and turned my attention to someone else. Soris. He was still standing in the exact same spot, only now his attention was turned to the horribly wounded Bosmer staring at him.


I raised my finger at him. " You!", I screamed, " You killed them! You took everything I had! Now...You will die!".


" I-I'm sorry! Please don't hurt me! It was an accident!". His words were useless. I had made up my mind right there and then. That damn blue skined abomination will die by my hand!


I ran at the Dunmer, with everything I had. He stood his ground, knowing very well it was useless to try and outrun a Bosmer. Instead of running, he pulled out a rusty iron dagger and began swinging it around violently and carelessly. He obviosly had no experince with a blade.


" I'm warning you! I'll do i-". He was interupted as I slammed my entire body into his, knocking him down. He threw me off and scrambled to his feet, swinging the dagger in my direction. I kicked it out of his hand, and grabbed hold his arm. See, before I settled down, I was an adventurer. I would travel all over Cyrodil in search of, well, anything and everything. My very violent and shady past had given me a very varied set of skills. Skills I was going to show Soris.

I twisted his arm around with one hand, and with the other I applied preasure to the elbow, snapping his arm. He screamed out in agony, as he pulled away and raised his good arm at me.


" Please, no more! I beg of you!". It was useless. I tackled him once more, bringing him to the ground. After quite a few rolls and scrambles, finally I was on top and an inch away from his face.


He pulled his good arm out and covered my face with his palm. After mumbling some otherworldly words, my face began to burn and my body shot away, at least five feet in the air. I landed back-first on rock. The air gasped out of my lungs, and I struggled to catch it.


Within in seconds I was back to my feet, running full-throttle at the Dunmer. He cast another fire-ball at me but I nimbly rolled under it. When the role ended, instead of running again, I used the force to create a sort of spring manuver, landing on Soris. He raised his hand again, but I didn't give him a chance. I slammed him with a barage of punches. First his nose cracked, spewing blood everywhere. Then his jaw became unhinged, then a bone in his skull cracked. Huge gashes began to open all around his face and neck. But I did not stop the attack. Even though he was half-dead and completly limp, I kept at it. Pounding the blood-plattered mush that was once a dirty Ashlander.




Finally I was forced to stop, as a passing Imperial Guard tackled me off of the stupid Ashlander. With the hilt of his sword, he knocked me out, as I was putting up quite a fight.


**********************


Somehow Soris had survived, although he suffers from constant headaches and takes reacuring trips to clinics. I myself didn't need medicine or check-ups. I suffered no major injuries, although my body was scarred to an unbelievable extent.


Through the next couple months, I studied Soris' every move. Where he lived, who his family was, everything. And now I will extract my revenge.

Hey, DFS (may I call you that? Not so much for abbreviation, rather because it's the same name as the popular furniture store with never-ending sales ). I'll jump straight into the crit, if you want the praise part, just skip to the end.



I don't get it. His flimsy throwing dagger and the other stubby steel one will arouse suspicion, but the silver shortsword won't?

Beautiful.

This a bit melodramatic and cliche to be honest. Obviously, you need the characters to show some emotion, but there's a limit and then it begins to get tiring.

All in all it was an interesting opener, and definitely leaves the reader wanting more. Your description needs a bit more work, for example the fire, the sights and sounds and smells the guy is hearing as he enters the burning house. But, that's just my opinion, I like the writer to set a vivid scene for the reader to visualize.

I'll await more .

thank you for the crit. i'll try not to over look these things next time. and the short sword thing was because almost everyone in Cyrodil has a sword at their side, so its not a big deal. but if ur dressed in all black and have numerous blades, that might freak some people out. and i admit, the screaming part was melodramatic but i didnt really think about it. thanks for pointing it out. now that i no people are reading, im very eager to get working

S'ok .

In all honesty, I'd be equally wary of a man with a shortsword and a man with daggers. I still think it defeats the point if this man is concealing all these daggers, but then just goes and straps a sword to his side.

If you're trying to make him look inconspicuous, then why dress him in black?

well he needs to be some what stealthy. and he likes the color:Dlol but mostly for stealth

Oh ok . But back to the sword and daggers point, it's like saying a man with a handgun would look suspicious, but a man with a machine-gun wouldn't? You get my reasoning?

yah i get what u mean, but think about it. how often in Oblivion do u see just a random person walking around with a sword at their hip?quite often. so seeing someone with a short sword wouldn't freak anybody out. but yah, i see where ur coming from.

Good grammar, good job