[Mkguild] A House of Cards (.2)

[Zamir Twiggs]

Some trouble with email, hope this works===============================
Then once they were between the rock
and log Ma’alkeen acted. A veil of darkness circled the caravan in the form of
a black cloud enveloping all light in it.

   

“An ambush?!” A relatively young
man yelped in surprise. The Nahfalt knew enough to make out a green recruit. The
mischievous smile grew on his muzzle, his ears were perked and tail was
twitchy. Maybe he could play some other tricks on the mind of the inexperienced
recruit, have some entertainment in a non-fatal fashion after this long week of
chasing and training.

   

“Stay put and listen!” His
superior shouted to the others.

   

They found this task hard to
follow on with the mule panicking at losing its eyesight and slowly another
effect of the veil took hold as the driver struggles to keep the animal from
running off dragging the driver and his patron with it. Time and place began to
feel distorted, like the cloud was beginning to fog their mind. One of the
guards almost gets knocked over when the mule thrashed and bucked in his
direction in another desperate attempt to escape. 

   

With all of the noise generated
from the pack animal and the clouding veil creeping into their minds, Ma’alkeen
hardly tried to sneak over to the cart while in morphic form. His Shadowed
Sight would allow him to see where his normal eyes would fail. His ears would
try to pick up any movement that he would have missed even with Shadowed Sight.
Even blinded the guards were still within close proximity of the cart which
meant he would be very close to one while slipping by. Time slowed more with
every whiff of air passing his nostrils. Panic settled down, the amount each
suffered varied widely. Most of them were frantic, especially the quaking
private. He wondered if they would even hear the blood gushing from his jugular
as he pierced it. With these claws and teeth, he didn’t even need to use Echo
to kill him. The need to kill again was growing as his power was waning and a
human sized victim… He stopped himself. The fox would need to make a kill after
this raid before he loses control again.

   

He’ll quickly shift into his
quadruped form and jumped into the cart, moving under the canvas tarp with
ease. Every few steps he braced himself as the pack animal kept jerking it
around every time it muscled a little more freedom from the driver to take
flight. Ma’alkeen didn’t need long to maneuver his way over to the crate of meats
and swiftly shift into morphic form coming upon it despite the cart’s shifting.
A small triumphant smile crosses his muzzle. Taking at least four days worth of
food he began to make his departure when he’ll spy something that he never
expected.  Placed seals up were scrolls
bundled together in another. His eyes were focused on one in specific scroll
though. Upon its seal was a Mark for one of the Nahfalt Havens. However he was
unfamiliar with this one, perhaps it was forgotten lore, perhaps it was
classified information. Looks like he’s finding all kinds of secrets in this
valley.

   

The darkness vanished around the
caravan leaving the four guards, the merchant and very perturbed mule looking
around frantically for whoever attacked them. It didn’t take long before
another order was issued.

   

“Check the cart!” The age regressed
officer ordered.  Immediately a bobcat
morph jumped onto the cart and looked inside. He would find the meat crate with
the top hanging slightly ajar. If he wasn’t joined by the bighorn client he
would have missed it.

   

“Someone broke into containers
holding food and scrolls.” The sheep said with a combination of contempt and
regret. “All those scrolls were prepaid for by a client in the Keep. Six garnet
in total.”

   

“See if you can find a scent or
tracks.” The child watched the trees as the others looked for any trace of the
raider. It wasn’t long before he got the report.

   

“There is a set of tracks coming
to the cart and a scent. But there’s none leaving.” A deer morph would tell his
superior. 

   

“The cart’s clear sir.” The
bobcat would give his report which caused the age regressed to clench his teeth
and more curses. 

   

The whole ordeal was within
hearing range of Ma’alkeen. He didn’t need to be anywhere near them to pick out
the conversation. His attention was mostly on his scroll and the dried meat he
placed in the bag at his fallback position. When the food was packed, he looked
over the scroll, bearing the three slashes of the Nahfalt with a mountain under
the top slash and between the two flanking slashes. This Mark was for a Haven he
didn’t know about. He could tell because all Havens had a Mark bearing
something that symbolized a celestial body. His was the moon, but the other
three he knew of had a star, the sun, and a comet. The mountain may seem out of
place if one didn’t think about a possible spiritual meaning. 

   

Ma’alkeen opens the scroll with
his attention cautiously divided to the various facets of the area. The words
were all written in a language no mortal tongue could speak, yet those who can read it will be able to understand it. However he could also detect several
spells placed on the scroll. 

   

April 12, 402 

If you can read this, that means either you are Nahfalt or you will be
a vital ally. 

   

Though in the midst of the third lunar cycle never has my resolve been
tested so. The fighting between the followers of Alanes and the followers of
the Lightseekers (Nahfalt who follow the Pantheon) has taken a predictable
turn. It was inevitable that some students had desires to learn and practice
the other faiths. Perhaps under another Master it would’ve been handled better.
Perhaps we could’ve prepared ourselves for the inevitable that others became
seduced by the power of our mortal enemies. Tis no secret that some daedra constantly
test the balance, and have contested this valley being deemed a threat to us
all. What has been shocking is how sense of kinship this Haven once provided is
has withered treachery and a brittle alliance. Trust between the followers of
Alanes and the Pantheon is only as strong as the desire of our sub-commanders to
eradicate dissident Nahfalt. No, they are now Sirutu, the Tainted. We prepare
for the next attack. Kyia has been informed of the treachery of our brethren
and I ask her to hide our most vital and possibly damning documents for a time
where they are needed again. 

   

May Alanes teachings preserve us all. 

-Galrid, Annalist of the Metamor Haven. 

   

Under the signature was a seal.
It wouldn’t seem any different from what a scribe or noble will use to adorn
their work symbolizing it as their own. Beneath the surface though was
something not even a mage would be able to crack without carefully looking up
each ingredient used in the creation of this seal. Ma’alkeen however had the
key. The crimson dots began to grow and overtake his eyes, turning his pupils
black and silver. Dark tendrils reached for his eyes, however they conveyed a
weakness not unlike one struggling to climb out quicksand. Then like a dead man
conveying his last words they latched onto his eyes. 

   

---

“Damn them all.” Kinata was nearing the tipping point. It’s hard to
calm her down whenever that happens but I can’t blame her. Each hand was
clenched around Cut, the vipers engraved on her kama looked as enraged as her.
“They’re too deaf from bickering with each other to hear the banshee wailing in
their ears.” A black aura grew more pronounced around her body, her guardian
was apparating. She was quite deceitful, appearing as woman at first, but soon
her arms were replaced with black feathered wings, her face became longer and
talons pierced the shadows cast on the pitch black earth. Shrill was there to help
make sure that Kinata was kept in check should her anger radiate into a frenzy.
After all that’s happened, she should let her. 

   

“We cannot wait for… Master… to put aside his difference with the Lightseekers.”
I finally spoke up. Kinata wasn’t the only one angry with this turn of events.
These people, they aren’t the same people I knew. Teachers, my role models,
people who I thought incorruptible. “Because of his foolish pride they killed…
they killed…” Couldn’t finish it I hate going back to that memory. And I won’t
sit here while our Master argues who’s lead to follow! I want the blood of
those traitors! For each drop she lost I will drain on of their corpses! I will
see the river run red with their blood. Damn the secrecy, if we fail the world
will find out anyway about our powers. I’ll show it ever drop of what I have by
scattering their souls to the wind, trapped in the fragments of bone I grind to
dust to suffer for eternity. I’ll… I’ll… 

   

You will dishonor her memory if
you forget everything you learned together.

   

This voice… Landal. I… he is right. I can’t forget what she died for.
Why so many are dying now.  

   

“But first, we should gather the Lightseekers who will fight alongside
us. The Sirutu threaten everything. Perhaps we’ll even get the help of their gods
alongside our predecessors to end the traitors.” I have to keep focus. So what,
I’m only 14 with three spirits quelled and five assassinations. I know one
thing the others don’t have.  

   

“How exactly do we do this? In case you didn’t notice Master is constantly
bickering with their priest.” Adian, roughly two years older than me but I
think less talented.  

   

“At this point, the Master’s permission doesn’t matter. Stopping them
does.” Better head over to my quarters, I need something from that skull I kept
after that ambush on a those mages. What they get for trying to siphoning
energy out of the Keep into a new host. Now the greatest threat to everything
is a damned feud and Sirutu.  

   

I better arm Pin and Needle, Landal takes possession of the kunai and immediately
so we can… that chill filled. This was a soul wrenching chill synonymous only with
the death realm. They’re here. “TO ARMS!” Have to get behind the others, they
quickly formed the line. Already their blades crossed and dark energy is
pooling. I have to reach that compartment under my bed. I need Kyra to take the
scrolls away from here. Need to reach the tomes fast, make sure they don’t fall
into the wrong hands. Then…  pray I
didn’t waste an eye only to have Sirutu find this.  

   

---

   

Ma’alkeen’s mind began racing
back, time accelerated until suddenly he was returned to the present time. The
black tendrils coming from the seal popped away from his crimson eye. The fox
was panting, going into the very mind of the scribe like that didn’t just leave
him disoriented, it exhausted some of his energy. When his thoughts began to
come together one question grew more urgent than the others, where the annals
still intact. Can’t assume that the Sirutu were all defeated in this
underground war, even if the valley isn’t under the rule of daedra. There are
many forces patiently lurking in the shadows, as his master warned him. He
happened to be another one that’s lurking right now. The information on this
scroll may not be of pertain to the Roulj but provides the location of
something valuable none the less.

   

We move to the Keep. He would mentally convey to his guardian. The
fox donned his robes that were placed in the alcove of an oak. A small belt of
knives were secured to left arm by two black straps; one under the shoulder and
the other above the elbow. The billowing sleeves of his robes made it easy to throw
a concealed knife. A pouch on the insides of his robe held approximately seven
copper and one silver piece, something to last a very short time until he needs
to take more.  

   

Passage into the keep wasn’t too
difficult. He would take to the road ahead of the caravan he raided and don his
new facade. Euper was as he expected of a town close proximity to the keep.
Loud, busy and in their shadow lived the crime ridden slums. He smiled within
himself, he was quite certain he can eliminate some of the more troublesome
criminals and the guards won’t be as inclined to investigate. Blood lust can be
kept under control and his power maintained, at least until they’ll have to
look into the disappearances. But he should look into this only when he really
needed to, which could be soon depending on how much that urge grows.

   

As was expected some of the
citizens of this town were varying degrees of pleasant. Since he clearly wore
the look of a stranger some tried to help give him directions, which he
politely declined. Occasionally he heard snide remarks ranging from low level
scum to being some snobby aristocrat, often it was scum. The remarks abated as
he got closer to the gate leading to the keep itself. The fox was nonchalat
when he approached. 

   

“Who approaches and on what
business?” The look in the guard’s eyes told him that someone’s due for a shift
change. Ma’alkeen’s bow to the guard was humble. His lie flowed with far
greater ease than truth.

   

“I go by Galrid. I’m here to
further my studies of their ancient wards. I heard my library pales in
comparison to Metamor’s.” The guard would look him over, he seemed to come
slightly more alive as he gestured to the robes. 

   

“What’s that mark?”

   

“I’m the first in my family to
become a scholar. This mark they made means ‘hidden away’.” He’ll laugh, such a
simple thing to do on cue. “You can tell they aren’t too proud of that career
choice.”

   

“You clearly have no problems
with that title.”

   

“If I cared about everything they
said about my life I wouldn’t be as satisfied to live it as have now.”

   

The guard looked him over again signaled
for him to pass through into the lower ward. “Very well, you may go on.
Library’s in the keep itself.” 

   

Ma’alkeen bowed again before
asking. “How will I find the library?”

   

 “You’ll find it.” Was all he got in response. It
took a moment for him to figure out what the guard meant. Though he knew he was
partially being blown off, Ma’alkeen answered his own question. He recalled
what Nod told him of the Keep’s guardian and her power to alter the passages. It’s
likely she’ll guide him to where he needs to go.

   

His paws were deathly silent on
the walk towards the library, seems some skills will never leave him. Immediately
he felt another presence turn its attention to him. It wasn’t eyes from any of
the keepers though some occasionally looked at the stranger with the peculiar
symbol on the back of his robes. These eyes were of the one he sought in
regards to the fallen Haven. His trek through the halls of the keep wasn’t very
long at all. He was greeted by a door almost immediately after his second turn
down the corridors. However the pull he felt and behind that pull was a
familiar energy. He doubted that this was coming from a library, but knew this
door would lead exactly to where he needed to go. 

   

Kyia has something you may want. Nod would speak through the
assassin’s thoughts. Ma’alkeen’s hand
grasps the cool handle and slowly opens the door. Inside was a spiral staircase
descending to the depths of the keep. The descent forced him to use his
Shadowed Sight to see down the pitch black passage. When he reached a corridor
he found no stands for torches, not like they would matter as this was a
magical darkness cast upon the corridor. The aura flowing through this hall was
different than that he’s seen in the keep itself. Not only was this passage
lined with various spells there was something else here, but incomplete. Like a
presence trying to crawl into the heart driving a soul clutching chill into the
heart. This corridor was specifically designed for people gifted with certain
seeing powers. The triggers for the corridor weren’t set in any elaborate
pattern and besides the fact that they were hidden by darkness and obscured to
most magic detection spells, he avoided them with nothing more than a careful
step here and there.

   

On the black wooden door was the
mark of the Metamor Haven. Beyond lies a room much like those he was familiar
with back at his own Ranfeld Haven in the south eastern Midlands. The walls and
ceiling were formed of obsidian. The pillars holding the ceiling were in
otherworldly shapes and silver light illuminated the moving visage of several
shadow spirits. Shadows who can manipulate dark powers others dread, powers
that take root in the darkest reaches of ones mind. Ones who use the shadows
like a mirror and grant them access to all muscle and mental memory of the
person that’s subjected to it. Ones, like Nod, who manipulate the very nature
of an object the same way one can use light to shape nightmares in the shadows.


   

On the ceiling was a feature very
unlike that of the Ranfeld Haven. Alight with many small white, yellow, blue
and red dots was the night sky. Joining them was the moon, half way open to its
fullest for the first time in the new year. As he moved under the half moon
he’ll notice a soft dark blue rug under paw and a circle of white cushions.  Next to the pillars and placed inward to face
the carpet and the center of the room were a series a benches. Behind a set of
pillars on the opposite side of the entrance was a pair of black flags bearing
the mark of the Metamor Haven in pearl white. A black wooden door bearing his
own mark told him who this room was made for. Ma’alkeen slowly opens the door
and was pleasantly surprised to find maps on a desk with a basket of scrolls
next to it. In the center of the room was a circle of soft earth lined with
white stones with a large carefully carved ceramic bowl turned upside down into
the soil. Next to his simple bed with a black comforter was a weapon rack and a
small nightstand with another bowl on top, this one was lined with white runes
that he recognized vaguely as the shadow dweller’s mixed with some form of
elven. From what he could interpret it sounded like what his master possessed
in his own office to seal away memories that can be a few hours long. His
attention broke from the splendor when he felt the distinct presence of another
in the room with him. 

   

The urocyon knew who his guest, or
rather who his host was. He slowly turned to look towards the source of that
presence. Years of exposure to spirits and the divine taught him that beings
like Kyia will blind someone like him if you respond swiftly. The light was
still bright but it began to settle allowing him to gaze towards the ravishing
woman standing before him. In her eyes he saw a being who witnessed all the
compassion and cruelty of mortals, her share of friends born and perish. Her
presence carried with it a weight that he typically feels from some of the more
powerful divine beings. In her hands was a bundle of scrolls with the mark of
the Metamor Haven in relatively good condition despite their age. 

   

“Nahfalt returning to the valley
was anticipated long ago.” Her voice was unreadable. “What calamity brings you
here?”

   

“The destruction of many in our
numbers has forced us to disperse.” Ma’alkeen would give a small polite bow to
the spirit of Metamor. “My purpose here is to assist in defending the balance.”
He would look over the carvings on the walls within the Nahkri’s, the
Shadowmaster’s, chambers as his hand glances across the obsidian interior.
“Many good Nahkri perished before a contemptuous one failed the entire Haven.
No… the entire valley.”

   

She held out the scrolls as if
passing down an heirloom. “Your Order was once invaluable in the defense of
this valley. Will you honor the sacrifice of those who stood against foes
unseen?”

   

He bowed his head before looking
back into her eyes. “If the Haven here is rebuilt once more then I shall ensure
its loyalty to the defense of the valley from hostile forces. Should the Haven
not return to its former state, or one that can support prolonged activity, the
duty will be my own.” His hand would go to Echo, the flat of the bone sword was
placed against his chest as he made the vow. “Tis my duty and the duty of all
Nahfalt trained here.” 

   

“And should the Nahfalt stray
from this teaching?” Kyia’s voice wasn’t accusing and sadly Ma’alkeen knew the
reason behind it. The past is something that repeats. The fox looked away, his
tail hanging barely off the ground and his gaze became hollowed as his thoughts
went through the events of the Fall. 

   

“They are then Sirutu and I will
bring them into deaths embrace myself.”

   

Ma’alkeen approached Kyia and his
hands extended for the scrolls. She would pass them into his hands and his grip
tightened.

   

Ma’alkeen’s mind returned to when
they worked in conjunction with someone outside of their order. He was working
with Lauren to infiltrate a noble’s manor in the town of Juniper. They were
told their information came from a concerned guard in the house about the
recent behavior of the manor’s owner. It wasn’t often they actively work with
another though it does happen. He understood why soon enough. They found a
hidden chamber in the dungeons, inside were three Moranasi and their leader was
the manor’s owner. He and Lauren dispatched them by using shadow magic to
confuse two of them into killing one of their own, Lauren killed the leader and
Ma’alkeen finished the two assistants. Inside were three prisoners, two were
saying Lothanasi prayers for protection while the last made the symbol for the
tree of Eli. The Nahfalt noticed their shackles were enchanted by dark magic.
Ma’alkeen tried to undo the spell on them. He didn’t notice when one of the
Moranasi knives made it across to them but when one called him demon and lunged
at him things were a blur. He didn’t know when he pulled out Echo but when he
finally regained his senses the man was impaled on the end of his blade. He
didn’t even notice until later that the guard they were with had his blade drawn
in a pool of his own blood; Lauren killed him. He made a mistake trying to save
these people. None of the others attacked him when he passed towards the exit.
Lauren was waiting for him at the top of the dungeon stairs. “You needed to
learn for yourself.”  She told him. The
lesson was clear, to those outside the Nahfalt they are considered the same
monsters they kill. Afterwards he saved prisoners from rituals only because it
would hinder them in achieving that final kill. Otherwise he leaves them to
free themselves or rot away, whichever happens he didn’t know or care and since
the Fall…

   

“Not all will see you as the
enemy. In time you will find strength in the friendship of others.” Ma’alkeen looks
up with furrowed brows a small growl was starting to rise but he’ll realize she
vanished like she appeared; without a trace. 

   

Lighten up killer. Nod would say.
His eyes would look up to the ceiling and the outline of the spirit on it. Besides you intended do a little light
reading while here. Nod would point to the scrolls in the fox’s arms. Ma’alkeen
looked down at the black seals, his gaze bore into the parchment as if he could
divine their secrets without opening it. He couldn’t maintain this gaze for
long, soon he felt the nagging in the recesses of his mind and the visceral
lust for blood in his heart growing stronger. Killing someone or something will
sate that growing bloodlust. He knew just where to go too. First he’ll take a
knife from that sheath on his left arm and cut into it. Sheathing the knife
again he’ll take a finger and dab it onto the dripping blood. The fox would
start to draw a seal onto the table. 

   

“Two cuts first, bleeds the body
and the second bleeds the spirit. The cycle binds plains of Life and Death.  They are linked through the paths of order,
chaos, benevolence and malevolence. In the center we stand, ever watchful. Never
seen, never heard, blood our blood is swallowed by shadow. With this tribute
let shadows hide you.” The seal began to glow with white energy like that of
the spirits on the wall. The energy covered the entire table and once the scrolls
were placed on top of it, so too were they. Ma’alkeen took a bandage out of a
pouch inside his robes and wrapped the cut, deathly silent as he gazed at the
seal. If there are Sirutu still in hiding in this Haven they won’t know of his
seals so the scrolls should be safe.

   

Now, it’s time we taste blood.


      

!DSPAM:4cb88b38222661804284693!
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