The Tribulation
Hurtled back through the mists the Dunmer traveler took a moment to reflect on the scene just witnessed. Paled and visibly shaken he looked over his shoulder to the kindly alchemist whom was now cheerily humming as he worked with his mortar and pestle. Clearing his throat a bit the alchemist glanced over toward the Dunmer and offering a calming smile "I trust you have just seen a more brutal piece of my history, one that I am neither proud nor regretful of. Take heart, the fog of time still is in need of parting." The Dunmer, apprehensive could bring himself to share no words to describe the brutally efficient method of killing. Taking a gulp of air the traveler turned his gaze back to the odd little orb and chanced yet another plunge into the strange man's memories, determined to find out all he can about his benevolent host...
It was a hazy bluewhen the Dunmer seen the areas about him the moments before the wake of the day, a light drizzle causing the ground to release a rich earthen aroma. Looking toward the only source of light; a small campfire, he watched the man with startlingly blue eyes speaking bracingly to a ragtag force of men. "Sharpen your blades, steel your minds and hearts. There is no point in denying that shortly all will be decided. I could search for a lifetime and find no braver men than you, your choice to fight for your homes and land place you in a mark of excellence that cannot be matched." The men looked up, their spirits lifting as they prepared for their battle. With their courage bolstered the small force rose to their feet, gripping all manner of weapons from stout axes to magnificent broadswords. Captained at the head of the force, Tavion stood tall and steadfast. Raising his gaze upward he narrowed his sharp eyes, the morning so chill and damp that the breath of the fighters could be seen coming forth in heavy bursts. Turning to face his men he gives a nod to the war drummers whom rose and awaited his cue to begin the battle march.
As the first gray-streaked rays of light spilled across the landscape, Tavion gave a second nod. A deep, rich, and inspiring beat resonated from the drummers, from the moment their first note was struck Tavion spoke in rhyme, a battle ballad "Dawn has broke, the time has come, move your feet to the marching drum. We'll win the war and pay the toll, fight as one in heart and soul. Follow orders as you're told, make their yellow blood run cold, fight 'til you die or drop for a force like ours is hard to stop. Close your minds to stress and pain, fight 'til you're no longer sane. Let not a one damn cur pass by, how many of them can we make die?" The rhythm of the drums, the passionate cadence from Tavion, and the seething hatred for those who threatened the lands boiled inside the men like venom. As they crossed the a small bluff overlooking the encampment of brigands the rain had tapered off and everything had fallen quite still, their moment was at hand. This was their time to send the word out through force of weapon that they would not yield, that they would not be put under fear any longer. Drawing his trusted Ebony broadsword, Tavion stepped to the fore. With a great cry from his rich and soothing voice he gave the signal to assault with extending his blade point-out to the camp. With individual footfalls setting the start of the charge soon grew into a small stampede... the men and their commander went to their war.
Roused from slumber by the scouts the brigands hastily equipped themselves with their weapons, adorning their armor partially in haste to retaliate. As the force of the attack tore through the camp the combat was chaotic and vicious, within moments of meeting head on, screams of pain and shouts of pure effort pierced the calm area. The ringing clang of metal against metal and the dull hiss as blades brutally cleaved through flesh and bone were soon added to the horrific symphony of battle. Tavion thrust the point of his sword through the exposed stomach of a brigand, drawing the body close to his to use as a temporary shield to ward off the savage blows from another attacker. Through the cacophony of war he shouted orders to his men, trying to ensure their losses remained a minimum. Despite his leadership he momentarily caught glimpses of those he was commanding fall, causing his heart to sear with pain and anger... and in turn channeling it to further his fury toward the brigands. Raising his shield to ward off the heavy blow of a warhammer from a terrified brigand he brought his sword coldly across the chest of his attacker, leaving him to die on the chill and sodden ground. Raising his gaze upward he felt his eyes widen as he looked upon the face of someone whom seemed familiar, the ragged scar across the chin and lips conjured a vague memory from somewhere within his battle-hazed mind. The moment of inactivity was a mistake on Tavion's behalf, it left him unguarded and an opportunistic brigand seized the chance to land a heavy blow upon Tavion's spaulder with a large club. Dazed and stunned, Tavion stumbled to the side a bit and focused upon his attacker. As he raised his shield to defend he reached back with his sword arm with full intent of relieving the brigand of life. A sharp pain flooded Tavion's mind, causing him to cease his action and the agony was accompanied shortly after by two more points of pain...
It was a dream to Tavion, it simply had to be. Looking around in a dazed stupor he could see his men opening their mouths, their lips forming his name but yet he heard no sound. Vaguely aware of the merciless pain his body felt he could see the life essence of brigands released from their bodies, arcing through the air slowly and gracefully. Turning his gaze to the side he tilted his head, seeing a small distance away the Dunmer with the scarred face heaving with laughter, holding a chitin short bow. Slowly it dawned upon Tavion, the face belonged to the highwayman he had let survive long ago. With dawning horror, Tavion reached down to his body, feeling the first shaft of an arrow... then the second... and the third... Looking down he could see they had pierced through the chainmail where his plate did not cover, it was shining red with his blood and he became acutely aware of how cold it was, it felt like he was entombed in ice. Mustering what willpower he could he became angry at himself with how slowly he was moving, it took everything within him to move his foot forward. Feeling the burden of his armor he felt his mind drifting away, everything slowly became pointless to him. Unable to stand under his own power, Tavion slumped to his knees and then onto his side. In the last lucid moments of his consciousness he mumbled peacefully "The war is won, I am afraid I'm a bit tired and in need of a long rest. Take care to tend the wounded and honor the dead."
Within moments of the utterance of those words the Dunmer found himself in a swirling haze, but he was not brought back into the world as he knew it.. he was encompassed in pure inky blackness. Terrified he had become forever trapped in the Alchemist's mind he wondered "Am I dead now too? Oh gods help me, please help me..."
(c) 2005 Scrooluse