Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-3293219-20170307215353/@comment-3293219-20170311222114

Zakariah lay in the dark, with no windows and a locked door, he was forced to simply stare into the Darkness as he drifted off to sleep.

“Looks like you’ve got some new friends.” A voice whispered, to his left, prompting the Dunmer to roll his head to the side as he felt Karliah’s gentle breaths beat against his face.

“Wouldn’t call ‘em friends… not just yet…” Zakariah muttered, with a faint smirk, wrapping his arms around her midriff and pulling her a little closer into his bedroll.

“I guess we’ll see… Some of them seem okay, trustworthy… to an extent.”

“Zakariah… Is that faith I hear?” Karliah asked, mockingly, getting a sigh from her husband as he gently shook his head.

“You just really want me to call them ‘friends’ don’t you?”

“I just really want you to be happy, the whole… Brooding widow thing doesn’t suit you, y’know that, right? I mean, it’s great that you’re a lot more open and less… timid than you once were but…

You should stop hiding yourself away from the world.”

Zakariah sighed, resting his forehead against her’s, the scarring that she had, when they last met wasn’t there. He remembered her as she was, not what they turned her into…

“I kind of have to be strong… You aren’t around to defend me anymore…”

“Yeah… I know, still, point stands. You could afford to be a little more… open with people, y’know? Talking to your dead wife isn’t really the best way to move on with your life.”

“No but it… It works for now.” Zak sighed, rolling back onto his back and looking up to the ceiling.

“I’m sorry… I just… can’t help but think about the life I could be living right now, the life we could be living… You, me… a kid…

How do you start again, from nothing? Like… Absolutely nothing?”

“That’s the best place to start again…” Karliah pointed out, sliding her knee across his lower body, placing her hand on his chest.

He slowly rolled his head towards her, though found that the light of the hallway quickly cast across the room and a low creak emitted from the far side of the room. Zakariah sat up, readying flames in his hands, that illuminated the room, like two tiny lamps. He watched as a blonde haired Imperial Woman in armour, similar to his own, slipped inside.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Am I… Interrupting something?” She asked as the door clicked shut behind her, upon seeing that it was her, Zak shook his head, pulling himself back and sitting upright.

<p class="MsoNormal">“No, was just trying to go to sleep.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Oh… Thought I heard talking…” She muttered, stepping across the room and sitting on a barrel, to which Zak just shrugged.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I talk to myself, I like to think aloud, you know that…”

<p class="MsoNormal">“I do. Just… Being careful.” She shrugged, reaching into her pocket and tossing an envelope over to Zakariah.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Got a job for you to do… A target.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Zak watched it fly through the air, landing on his legs. He cut the flames out in one hand and took a look at the blank envelope, tearing it open with one hand and pulling the piece of paper inside, taking a look at it.

<p class="MsoNormal">Luca Jermire, HoneyDew, Kvatch…

<p class="MsoNormal">He examined it before dropping it onto his lap, looking somewhat confused, back to her, narrowing his gaze.

<p class="MsoNormal">“The Count?” He asked, he recognised the surname, Jermire…

<p class="MsoNormal">“No, his son.” The Blonde Imperial corrected him, crossing her legs over.

<p class="MsoNormal">“This one deserves to suffer. They say that he had a… Keen interest in owning Child Slaves during Telemachus’ occupation.

<p class="MsoNormal">Of course, none of them have been seen again… We don’t even know if they’re still alive, though we think it’s worth checking.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“You didn’t want this contract?” Zakariah asked, somewhat confused. If she was in the neighbourhood, why not do it herself?

<p class="MsoNormal">“I wanted him to suffer, you’re… good at making people suffer… You’re also good with locks and destroying evidence, figured you were better qualified for this job.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Zakariah nodded, taking another look at the paper before creasing it up and burning it, reducing it to ashes that fell to the ground as he ground them up in his hand.

<p class="MsoNormal">“He won’t live through the night…”

<p class="MsoNormal">This pleased the Imperial, who smiled and gave him a gentle nod before rising to her feet, hopping off of the barrel and rolling her shoulders back.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Happy hunting, brother.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Her faint whispers vanished into the air as she faded away, slipping some sort of ring on her finger and making herself invisible. She approached the door and opened it, slipping outside and allowing the door to close, leaving Zakariah alone…

<p class="MsoNormal">“Be careful…” Karliah muttered, gently grazing his hip with her knuckle, prompting the Dark Elf to glance down. <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt; padding:0cm;mso-padding-alt:0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm">“Pfft… You don’t know me very well, if you’re asking that of me.” <p class="MsoNormal">Luca Jermire sat at his table, slowly sipping at his soup, it was quite a well-made beverage, made with the finest ingredients money could buy in this part of the world. He still slurped it up, like it was virtually nothing, to him, it was…

<p class="MsoNormal">The Count’s Son was a young, Imperial man, with rather messy brown hair, with a moustache and chin scruff combination for a beard. He actually looked quite suave and handsome, it showed that he cared a lot for his looks but never really left the house or attended many social events that weren’t mandatory. He spent most of his time alone, which he preferred, overall…

<p class="MsoNormal">He was blissfully unaware of the fact that his front door was open, that the lock had melted and that it now hung open, with an intruder inside the premises. Had he known, he would’ve run out, into the street, panicking… Sadly, he didn’t have that luxury, one of the few in life he had been denied.

<p class="MsoNormal">Zakariah stood behind him, throwing his arms to the side and emitting an intense, fiery aura, that engulfed his entire body, like a flame astronaut. The sudden burst of light startled Luca, causing him to flinch as he hit the table, causing it to jump as he quickly got out of his seat and stumbled back, looking to burning man in the face as he stared him down. He couldn’t even see his face, there was only the flaming outline of a man, a good way for Zakariah to hide his identity…

<p class="MsoNormal">He tried reaching for his sword but his hand was quickly grabbed by Zakariah’s, pinning it to the hilt of his sword. Black flames emitted around the hand and an intense sizzling sound emitted from his grasp, resulting in a blood curdling scream as the flesh of the Count’s son was burned away and his hand was almost immediately stripped of most of its soft tissues, to the point that it was mostly bone.

<p class="MsoNormal">Zakariah then pushed him forward, slamming him against the wall and wrapping his hand around his throat as he peered into his terror-stricken eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal">The Dunmer began to recite the words, spoken by the first of his order, the words that sent a chill down the spine of any slave owner.

<p class="MsoNormal">“We are the children, left in the dark.

<p class="MsoNormal">We are the grieving, the sick, the oppressed, the raped and beaten.

<p class="MsoNormal">We are the living and the dead, united by our lust for vengeance.

<p class="MsoNormal">We do not forgive, forget or compromise.

<p class="MsoNormal">There is only one price to be paid…” Zakariah stopped, creating the black flames around his hand again, the hand that was wrapped around his throat as it sizzled through the soft tissues, quickly burning through his trachea in a matter of seconds.

<p class="MsoNormal">Zak curled his fingers up, tearing up the inside of his throat, like he was moulding clay. He grabbed hold of as much as he could before pulling it back, tearing the melted mess, that was once his throat out.

<p class="MsoNormal">With a series of choking sounds and convulsions, Jermire slipped down to the floor, furiously struggling as his body tried to deal with the ability to breathe, literally being ripped away from him. His killer watched remorselessly as he squirmed at his feet, violently kicking out as he wrapped his hands around the charred hole that was once the front of his neck. His shocked, wide eyes stared up at Zakariah, as if pleading to be saved… he knew not of the hatred that lingered in his killer’s eyes as he eventually went limp and expired…

<p class="MsoNormal">Zak just turned away as the flames died down, he sighed, heavily, shaking his head as he wandered around the room, casting a fire spell on the rug beneath his feet and burning it away to nothing. <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt; padding:0cm;mso-padding-alt:0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm">There, two feet away from where he was stood, was a trap door… He had an idea, where it lead but he hoped that he was wrong. He stepped on over towards it and pressed two fingers against the lock, reducing it to nothing in a matter of seconds before he ripped it open and slipped inside. <p class="MsoNormal">Zak dropped down, into the basement, quickly turning around, with flames at the ready, in case there was anything hostile, waiting for him down here…

<p class="MsoNormal">He immediately noticed dry blood on the stone wall, to his right, an unsettling sight, considering what he knew of Jermire’s habits. He quickly noticed that there was a room, just up ahead, that would hopefully reveal more…

<p class="MsoNormal">The next room was roughly the same size as the entrance, however, on it was some sort of weapon rack, though hanging from it were a number of belts, quite expensive Imperial Leather belts as well, with steel buckles. All of them were stained, heavily, with blood, a few of the buckles were damaged as well, most likely the result of a heavy blow.

<p class="MsoNormal">Zak turned, back around, immediately finding himself face to face with a cage. Inside was a small, Breton girl, with rough, brown hair, that hadn’t been washed in months. She had a number of bruises around her arms and had her face buried in her knees as she squatted down.

<p class="MsoNormal">The Dark Elf stepped inside the chamber, gently placing his hand on the cage door, wrapping it around the lock before emitting a black flame from his hand around it. It sizzled, furiously, getting the child to look up, staring straight at him, with a blank face… A face that clearly felt nothing anymore…

<p class="MsoNormal">Zak’s hand wrapped around it and he ended up ripping the lock off, throwing it across the room before opening the jail-like gate, seeing that the girl responded by slowly rising to her feet.

<p class="MsoNormal">She just looked up to him, blankly before gently reaching down to her sack-cloth shirt and rolling it up, slowly trying to remove it. Zak placed his hand on her’s shaking his head as he knelt down before her.

<p class="MsoNormal">“That’s not why I’m here.” He whispered, taking hold of her shoulders and looking her in the face.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m here to help.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The girl looked up at him, meeting his gaze, with a look of indifference an indifference he couldn’t help but share…

<p class="MsoNormal">Did it even matter now? How long had she been down here? Was the damage done to her psyche even reversible?

<p class="MsoNormal">He looked over her, looking around her neck, face, arms and her feet. Her face was bruised, lightly, from the look of the mark, it looked like it was from the impact of the belt. Her arms on the other hand were almost black with bruising… her fingernails were broken, the one on the left ring finger had been removed.

<p class="MsoNormal">She had multiple hickies on her neck, a rather… unpleasant thing to see on a child her age as well as a number of cuts on her feet, the toe nails of which were cracked and one or two were overgrown.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Argh shit…” Zak whispered, looking up to her, straight in the face.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I’m sorry… I’m sorry that I couldn’t come sooner… It’s over now though, he’s…” He slowly lifted his bloody hand, waving it before her eyes.

<p class="MsoNormal">“I took care of him… he isn’t going to be hurting you or anyone else again.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The child just continued to stare at him, as if she didn’t know how to respond, maybe she had no speaking ability… or maybe she was in shock, either way, he wasn’t going to get much out of her.

<p class="MsoNormal">“C’mon…” Zakariah whispered, lifting her up. <p class="MsoNormal" style="border:none;mso-border-bottom-alt:solid windowtext .75pt; padding:0cm;mso-padding-alt:0cm 0cm 1.0pt 0cm">“I’ve got some friends, who can help you…” <p class="MsoNormal">Zak awoke, the next morning, eyes slowly opening as he grunted, the pain of sleeping against a hard, wooden wall was hell on your body and sleeping with your head slumped forward for hours was hell on your neck as well. He grunted, rolling his shoulders back before looking over to his bedroll, where a small lump was curled up inside it.

<p class="MsoNormal">Just as he was about to get up, the Chapel’s bells began to ring, loudly, not like they normally would to inform every one of the time of day but erratically and constantly as if they were alerting everyone in the city.

<p class="MsoNormal">Something was wrong…