An Orphan's Tale 10: PilgrimageAn Orphan's Tale 10: Pilgrimage3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Lydia came back a few minutes after Vilkas had left and knelt by Selene. "By the eight, what happened?"
"Lydia, could you take some fresh water up to my room for me?"
"Did Vilkas do that to your face?"
"I really don't want to talk about it."
"As you wish, my Thane."
When Lydia came back with water, Selene went upstairs, undressed and washed up. Her left eye throbbed and her vision was fuzzy, and when she looked in the mirror she saw that it was swelling shut and a terrible bruise was forming on her cheek. Vilkas had hit her hardin more ways than one. She put on a clean dress and lay on the bed, trying to blot out the day's events, but they bombarded her mind relentlessly. The Silver Hand had attacked and taken the fragments. Kodlak was dead. Vilkas had struck her.
Vilkas had struck her.
She'd been hit by guys before. She was a warrior, for Kyne's sake; she fought all the time. But this was different. It wasn't some bandit or a thug in a bar picking a fight; it was Vilkas.
Skyrim- Memoirs of a HousecarlIt was, once again, two in the morning when he came stumbling in through the door of Breezehome. He had a glowing sword on his hip and was clothed in strange, evil-looking armor. A quiver of Ebony arrows was askew on his back, and he was muttering about draugr and hands and nightingales.Skyrim- Memoirs of a Housecarl2 years ago in Drama More Like This
Believe it or not, I am used to this. “Hello, my love,” I said. “Back from some adventure, I bet.”
He continued to mutter, a bit dazedly, while he began unloading several new weapons onto the rack on the wall. Most of them were also glowing. Then he crossed over to the fire and sat down very tiredly, the wooden chair creaking and settling under him. He stared into the fire for a minute, before finally looking at me.
“Lydia,” he said, “Would you mind cooking something for me?”
“Here,” I replied, ladling a bowl of stew from the ever-present pot on the fire (as a housecarl, you have to be prepared for your Thane to come in at any moment). “
Nightingale"Name's Mercer Frey. And you are?"Nightingale3 years ago in Drama More Like This
His hands shifted to cross over his torso as his amber eyes burned into mine. They had a bit of playfulness in them an innocence I would watch silently as it crumbled over time. But back then, the moment we met, his gaze held onto mine with the fiercest of grips. So many words were spoken over that glance; it produced an almost paralyzing effect over my limbs and voice. Without warning, I was trapped caught like prey in a Frostbite Spider's web.
Forcing some sort of noise from my throat, my sentences finally formed after a few grunts. "K-Karliah," I mumbled, offering my hand. His larger palm fit perfectly around mine and proceeded in a friendly and inviting shake.
"I can tell we're gonna get along fine." The 'Spider' rasped, his face softening with a smile tugging at his lips. His irises were still ablaze, but somehow he had managed to ease my previous fears with that one simple expression.
I, the 'prey,' simply nodded and tried to form
PSJJJJPSJJJJ3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Is Padomay a deity who wants blood and sacrifices (Sithis), or it represents the Everlasting Change, full of mysteries and uncertain stories? Which one of the possible realities are the Truest? Perhaps the answer can be obtained from the PSJJJJ.
With the Elder Way, the vision of Mundus becomes something deeper and comprehensible, without just a meaning, but with all the possible meanings. The Word is made True, and with True, the Impossible is made Possible.
The Meaning of the Eye, coming with the Dragon and in a Time without The Crown: All was made possible because it was seen a long time ago, and in all possible ways:
The Red Flame Jewel, which was broken by the Moon-and-Star Soul of the Houses is the Key. The Key of Change and the Key of Sight. Look into the Tower, and you will See: Eight Times and One Choice are made in Oblivion. Look in the Sigillum... All is Sanguis. Seek the Hidden Knowledge but be prepared. Do not carry what you can not if
Cicero's ListenerThe Dread Father would laugh and dance with him before loyal Cicero would let that sly, honey-worded thief take his Listener away from him.Cicero's Listener3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He had honestly liked him at first meeting. Sweet Listener had taken him to Riften, the home of cutthroats and thieves. She had mentioned that the reason behind their visit was a mix of business in pleasure. Listener was the Guildmaster to the thieves, so Cicero understood that she had to talk to Byrnjolf. He ran things while she was gone. Humble, loyal Cicero knew that he was Dark Brotherhood, and not Thieves Guild, so he agreed to leave the two alone to talk Thieves Guild business. Cicero was even agreeable to the fact that Byrnjolf and Listener were friends and had to catch up when it came to their personal lives.
But they weren't lovers.
So Cicero didn't know why it was so necessary for Byrnjolf to silently demand that he be closer to her. At dinner, he sat next to her in Listener's little Honeyside home. Cicero sat across them from, giving sil
AequilibriumAequilibrium3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Nirn knows only Stasis and Change (Good and Evil are just concepts made by mortals in an attempt to understand the reason of the Stasis and the transition through Change), the two forces, a dual aspect of the Divinity, found in TES.
Magicka is Entropy, a measure of the "disorder" in Creation. By Magnus, the Mathematician, who knows the Alphabet of the When and Where, Nirn, an Entity-Realm not yet known, Became. With the Earth Bones, the Laws of Nirn (Lex Naturalis) were established. Through Magicka, the Change could become Stasis and the Stasis could become Change.
Magicka is the manipulation of the Divinity - the Spark of the Creation.
"AV LATTA MAGICKA AV MOLAG ANYAMMIS"
AV LATTA OIOBALA
Morokei, Glorious Dovah Priest.
A Winter Tale.A Winter Tale.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had taken her years to work up the courage to visit London in any physical sense, despite her obvious obsession with it in her mind for the past nine years, and while the admittedly neurotic petite blond woman was nervous and out of sorts amid the tall once-familiar buildings and fireless streets, she also felt relieved, as though she were coming home from a personal war.
The journey wasn't a fruitless one, and she was damned sure too timid to just venture up on her own. Mina, who had religiously been practicing ballet for years, finally earned a role in the performance of the Sadler Wells Theatre's token Christmas performance--The Nutcracker. The slender but athletic child had scoffed at the idea of being cast as a bon-bon for Mother Ginger's dress, and to the chiding of her instructor insisted upon taping her feet and training in pointe shoes. Thanks to her lean frame and light weight, she was successful in her en pointe training, enoug
So That's What She Meant.Late that night, after everyone else was in bed, the curiously quiet Burned Man, who accompanied the small group across the river, finally folded the page down on his Book of Mormon and pocketed the Scripture, standing slowly and staring at the flames of the campfire which he'd been reading by for hours.So That's What She Meant.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"Late night studying?" piped up a voice behind him, and he turned in surprise, unaware that anyone had remained awake after the rigorous day.
"Have you ever read any of the Scripture?"
Her arms were folded, her eyes weary but still merry enough. Shrugging, the Courier responded, "I'm sure I did when I was younger, but I don't remember it much. I didn't have much time for it, as I recall." Assuming correctly, the Courier gathered that Graham knew of her hardships in her pre-Courier life.
Quoting from memory, Graham recited in his gravelly voice, "Only take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine
The UnchildBabette sniffed softly as she worked on a new potion, her concentration slightly disturbed as that fool Cicero cackled loudly and started talking nonsense to the Night Mother. Oh how that fool felt himself important since Silimari let him live. The vampire snorted, shaking her head as she bent back over to her potion. What a sad fool he was.The Unchild3 years ago in Drama More Like This
The child-woman knew that truth. Sili, that's what Babette had taken to calling the Khajiit, had left the Jester alive in order to keep the peace. Between the four of them, only one knew how to take care of their Mother properly, and as the Listener Sili couldn't let anything happen to her. It must be so different for Sili who could hear their Mother, who knew that the Unholy Matron cared for the Family like they did. The others only knew the words through Sili, so their connection to their Mother was less.
Nazir believed that Cicero was left alive due to Astrid's downward spiral into madness. The Redguard was simply waiting for the word, he would
Rawlith Kharji "I cannot understand why skooma is so popular " sighed Do'Krin, as he and his master walked past a skooma den, both in hooded robes marked with a large strange symbol on the backs and wrists. Many of the residents lay outside, out of their minds, whispering strange words in their stupor. Others ran around, elated and feeling on top of the world.Rawlith Kharji3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"The feeling, I would assume, look at them, they feel as if they can conquer the world " his instructor replied, pointing to those running about. "The others ecstasy I suppose " he finished, looking at those who lay on the mats and benches outside.
"But it is such a dependency, sir" Do'Krin continued. "It does not seem like a good trade; the more you use it, the better you feel, and the more you feel you need it " he sighed, looking upon the addicts with nothing but pity. "Soon they feel like dying more than they feel their ecstasy " he finished.
"I suppose I cannot answer your inquir
A Christmas Poem, by LKIG.((IF YOU DON'T READ THE ARTISTS COMMENTS FIRST I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU))A Christmas Poem, by LKIG.3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
'Twas the night before Thanksgiving
And all around Deviantfuck
Deviants were doodling, scribbling,
writing, except for one schmuck.
Leon Kennedy, with coffee in hand,
His desk too dirty, his tickbeard too full
When late that night, he got canned,
And so ended the great Leon's troll.
Some say was the Christmas spirit
Snuffing out the heart of the beast
But for whatever reason, his profile disappeared,
and Deviants everywhere sat down to feast.
With a dumbfounded stare and wink of his eye
Leon flew to the ocean underneath the night sky,
He sat there stroking his tickbeard of luck
Deviantart, he muttered, messed with the wrong fuck.
Satan's tongue holds no more poison,
Leon claim's he is god, after all
and for certain no heart is more venomous
as the Tickbeard's, after his downfall.
So while the troll'ed relaxed for the season
and settled in with their cups of cheer
toasting to the demise of the troll,
a horrid laugh
26. Tears "Coward."26. Tears2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The accusation was spat sharply into the still air.
Not offended, the silence waited.
"Fool. Didn't you see? Couldn't you tell it wouldn't help?" Drip, drip.
The lone figure stood at the foot of the new-turned grave, crying. They had waited until the rest of the mourners had gone, lingered on the outskirts until they could tell this dear deceased how they really felt. In person. Alone. They who never cried.
"You knew it wasn't going to work. You knew that even if you escaped, we'd still be here, still trying to deal with our own jacked-up lives, but without you, now. You knew you'd only cause us all grief and despair. And for what?" Drip, drip. A clenching of teeth and fists. "A miserable little coward that left me all alone."
Vulpes one shot.Vulpes one shot.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The Decanus lifted his shoulders, cringing behind his mask as the other man fell to the dusty ground, rope around his neck. It wasn't something he'd expected, to see this. He didn't agree with the decision, either. The one who was about to be crucified wasn't fighting his fate, though; he accepted it with the same serene demeanor he always carried. You could call the pair of them similar in the way they spoke, however this was not the case. One was simply aloof, the other...eerily detached.
Now, Aloof watched Eerily Detached as his knees and palms slammed into the dusty soil, breaking his fall and perhaps being the only thing to save his face from hitting the ground instead. The Centurion's whip lashed through the air and struck the man's back, but the Decanus' thick armor didn't allow much of the sting to carry through. The Centurion realized this, for he immediately stepped forward, looming over t
Mk. III Cyberhound B955883Mk. III Cyberhound B9558834 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Around Freeside, the battle had died down. As a result of the Securitrons, the Kings, the NCR, and the Locals, the Legion had no chance. The shadow that the King saw earlier was descending, dropping off two very important people at the East Gate; outside the broken doorway, Boone fell to the ground, standing, and caught Andy as she slid from the rope as well. Carrying the wounded woman, the sniper hurried through Freeside, where he almost immediately ran into Nolan McNamara.
"We have ran them away, it is finished," he said in that calm voice, reassuring the sniper.
"You mean there was a battle here? This looks like regular old Freeside to me," Andy said jokingly, still in Boone's arms. She was woozy from lack of blood, and neither Nolan or the man with the red beret laughed at her feeble joke. The bodies of many lay around them. The usually dusty gray streets were literally r
Sign of the Maker part one.Sign of the Maker part one.4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Maker, hear me."
A soft, lilting brogue, rising gently from the central mezzanine of Kirkwall's chantry, caused Grand Cleric Elthina to pause her steps and turn. She let her eyes move sadly toward the kneeling boy she had raised as her own; the boy who was now a man, she reminded herself with a soft shake of her head. Sebastian seemed to spend so many hours on his knees these days that she wondered how he was able to keep up with the lifestyle Cortland Hawke's companionship demanded of him. When would the lad see that his service to the Maker shone through in his every action, his every word? Elthina knew as well as anyone that a holy duty can take many forms and, for someone such as the Vael Prince, that duty could be performed as admirably on his feet as on his knees.
But he would not hear her.
He had ever been a stubborn child. At the whim of the winds of change, but ready to fling himself body and soul in whichever direction they took him. She prayed each day that the winds tearin
Happy One Year Anniversary.Winter in the desert was no less biting, no less bone-chilling than winter anywhere else,and especially in this tall mountain range existing alongside what was left of the once-great city of Las Vegas, the Courier quaked in her boots. She had traded in her button-up Victorian style pair for Nightstalker hide cowboy boots--styled after a pair worn by her long-dead father, the Burned Man. She was not stupid; traveling up the treacherous mountains alone could be deadly, and she donned a thick, pre-War fur coat and several layers of pants.Happy One Year Anniversary.4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had started snowing hours ago, and she was not anywhere near where she needed to be. The snow hampered her journey, but it was all the better, Andy supposed. No stars were to be seen; nothing but sheets of white, beating against her scarf-wrapped face where glassy green eyes the shade of peridot peered out. She was effectively blinded, but she still had every intention of making it to
ReverberationsSilence filled the concert hall. Michael’s heart pounded, and his palms sweated. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. This is the dream he’d been dreaming for all his life. The eighteen-year-old boy closed his eyes; he placed his hands on the piano, and began to play.Reverberations2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Every person has a story, just as every piece has a story – it just depends on how the pianist decides to tell it.
The piece started out slowly; the first note reverberated through the concert hall.
His story started three months ago.
It was like every other typical day – Michael was driving his little sister, Noelle, to her violin audition. It was snowing slightly, and with the exception of the ice on the roads, the weather was quite favorable. While he hadn’t had much experience with driving on the ice, Michael was perfectly confident that it’d be alright – which was why he hadn’t bothered to ask one of his parents to drive. They seemed overworked lately, a
Sign of the Maker part twoSign of the Maker part two4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sign of the Maker Part two
"Hawke, behind you!"
Cortland Hawke turned at the sound of Aveline's shout without hesitation, twin daggers whirling. The fight had been a long and hard one, and he was panting and tired, he knew, but he would not go down like this. Almost automatically his eyes sought out the party's healer as he span, hoping beyond hope that this wouldn't be his last look. Please, Maker, not now.
He needn't have worried.
Before his blades could bite into the flesh of the man behind him, an arrow lodged itself firmly into the forehead of his would-be attacker, sending the last of their current foes crashing to the floor. There was a moment's pause as the party sheathed weapons and brushed dirt from their clothing, Hawke letting out a whistle as he did so.
"That one was pretty close." He turned and looked up at a raised section of the Bonepit mining cavern, where the Prince of Starkhaven stood. "A timely arrival, Sebastian, you have my thanks."
A small head move
The Anthropologist - Human After All (2/2) “ ‘Oops,’ he says,” she quoted irritably. Dr. Kandace Malloway hurried over to the master computer on the wall above the pools within the BATH chamber. “We can’t revive them if they’re still in stasis, Joseph! Get your head on right!”The Anthropologist - Human After All (2/2)3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
“I’m sorry,” Joey stressed again. “It’s not like it takes a lot of time to push a few buttons,” he muttered under his breath.
“Will both of you relax?” Jenson asked. “Joey – Kandace is right. We can’t afford any mistakes right now. Even little ones,” he added before Joseph could retaliate. “Simon’s gonna flip his lid if something goes wrong this time.”
As if summoned, Simon strode in from the dry lab next door. “How’re things going in here?”
“Fine,” Brent replied quickly. “J
The OwlThe world was a cruel place, and humans were even crueler. No matter who you are, you all strive and struggle to come off as an illusion, or as the good guy. There are the good, the bad and the ugly, majority of it is ugly. Hidden under kindness, hidden over every other emotion. And any other human being, is no exception, to monsters who may stand to reason over the world. The monsters inside, the monsters we are constantly fighting, what's the point?The Owl3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I held on tight to my school books as I walked through the gate, making sure not to loose them in the wind. Bucknear academy, was a boarding school, in the middle of the forest. Surrounding us was a large forest, and beyond that, was a rounded fence, to where none of the students could escape, not even climb, because of the electrical current going through it. Most of the students here, like me, had been sent as a rehab as "bul