After some fiddling, I finally got The Ruby Game Part 3 typed out and I'm working on typing Part 4.
As for the actual writing, I've finished Part 5 (The Hidden Blade) and added an unplanned part after that. The new Part 6 is now Broken Scapegoat. No doubt Vulom wanted revenge on her chosen scapegoat for doing something she hadn't counted on, so... She hasn't had the chance to do anything like that in a long time.
The Ruby Game Part 3:
Dragons in the Night
Spoiler:
Resting was not possible. Throughout the day, I was visited by members of the Legion who were stationed in the Imperial City. Most of them sought military advice; I gave advice only to those whose minds held no trace of Thalmor influence. It was a great opportunity to locate more Thalmor spies in the Imperial City itself. I identified one suspect… A Legate known as Adran Maryn. He was an Imperial of around 45 years old with golden hair and pale blue eyes; ordinary, if it weren’t for the fact that he seemed to be struggling against a great deal of fear… The fear of being discovered and losing his family. He was being forced to supply information to another spy positioned in the city. If he failed to comply, his family –a wife and four children- would be executed one by one. A common Thalmor tactic.
Nothing could be done about him, though, and I simply went about my business. I was left alone when evening arrived and, with nothing more to do, I retired to my bed for a few hours of rest. At midnight, I would rise once more to hunt; it had only been a day, but all that talking had… Left me thirsty.
For a while, my dreams were dominated by thoughts of the hunt; I chased my prey through darkness, catching them one by one and draining them dry. It continued like that until I arrived at the Imperial City. The Temple District, to be exact. The stone form of the Avatar of Akatosh –huge, with a head more than twice the length as that of an ordinary dragon- dominated the center of the district. Its wings, even though they were held at a sharp angle and not entirely extended, still stretched far enough that they passed over the wide streets surrounding the ruined temple and reached out to the houses on either side. The tail went over the soot stained wall of the temple and coiled neatly around it once. Its body, covered in the heavy armor plating of all other dragons, was slightly hunched, creating a bend in its form that led all the way to its open maw.
The stone cracked as I looked at it; streams of dust fell away as the Avatar of Akatosh began to move. His mouth closed and he pulled his wings in, dropping back down onto the temple. The head turned to look at me and I could sense a shadowy presence scrutinizing me from the other side. He stared for a minute –one long and mildly uncomfortable minute- before he returned to his centuries long silent scream of victory and pain.
I awakened suddenly and with a feeling of curiosity; the statue had moved. Why? It was almost as though Martin wished to speak with me. I got out of bed and, after putting on my armor; I shrouded myself with an old chameleon spell and transported myself out of the tower. There was no sense in disturbing any of the guards; security in the city might be lacking, but it certainly wasn’t in the tower. There was no shortage of palace guards. Outside, the only people around –beyond the usual lazy guards- were those drunkenly stumbling to their homes. I ducked and weaved around the drunks and eventually made my way into the Temple District itself.
Unlike the rest of the city, some of the stones of the Temple District were still stained by the smoke and fires of the last assault of the Oblivion Crisis. The cobblestone streets had been repaired and the burned trees replaced, but… The ruined Temple of the One and surrounding area had been left alone out of respect for Martin’s sacrifice. Stones from the blown out roof lined the ground around the rest of the blackened building; above the shattered walls stood the Avatar of Akatosh.
I opened the door to the temple –why the door was still there when there was no roof I wasn’t certain- and approached the old statue. The presence behind it –now palpable in my waking hours- shifted; he was watching, but hesitated to speak. Or perhaps he was being held back by Akatosh. I cast my spell and reached out.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to try and contact me. You’ve felt my presence in your dreams for months and you’ve only just come,” he paused, “I’ve been watching you for quite some time now. You… And everything else. For 250 years.”
“Why? You defeated Dagon and restored the barrier so that Oblivion could never threaten Tamriel again. You completed your purpose. Why linger?”
“I would have joined my father and his fathers in death, but… I wanted to see what happened to Seryna. Akatosh granted me that last wish by binding me to the statue. In a way, I regret it… Watching a friend suffer while I couldn’t do anything… You wouldn’t understand that. You understand the concept of suffering, having felt it yourself in your early years and used it to break your victims, but you cannot understand what it’s like to watch it happen to a friend you loved dearly. Just as a friend, mind you. Please don’t go there,” he had sensed a sarcastic remark beginning to form in my thoughts and silenced it before it could be heard, “In my death, though, I gained memories that had been lost in life. Specifically the incident where you were sent back in time. That had ceased to exist –to us- when you returned to the 4th Era. It was a curious experience and I’ve come to understand some of the more cryptic things you said to me. And to the others… Watching Seryna grow into the warrior you referenced was surprising. She was brought to me starving and weakened to the point of near death after the battle for Kvatch. In the few months I knew her, she became one of the strongest fighters I had ever seen. She followed that path through the trials of the Arena, to her rise as the Divine Crusader, and her eventual fall as Sheogorath. I’ve been watching you and the Empire since her death. Now I wait to see how this will all play out. I might be tied to Akatosh, but I cannot see forward through time. He hides that from me.”
“You’ll be waiting for many more years, then. This isn’t going to be a short conflict. I expect it will take close to 50 years to reunify Tamriel… And who knows how long it will take to topple the Dominion.”
The presence of Martin Septim became clearer as he pushed further into my mind, “I’m aware of that. Is your only motivation for doing this the fall of the Dominion? No… You seek power and control. I can feel it in you. I saw you defeat Alduin. In a way, I find it amusing how similar you are to him… Even to some of my own ancestors. And myself, in my younger years.”
“We have the blood of dragons in our veins. Or had, in your case. The dragon blood and dragon soul do wonders for one’s personality. Dragons seek power and have an incredible will to dominate. It’s what gave the past Emperors their power. Some were… Better than others. The traits, though, are stronger in me than they were in your own ancestors.”
“Yes, and that makes you the key for what is to come. I have been trying to get your attention because I have a message… You are what Tamriel needs now. You are the only one with the power to reunify the land, as you already know, and you will be watched and judged by all the Nine. Especially Akatosh. What you do reflects on him as well.”
I couldn’t resist laughing silently to myself, “I care not for the Nine. I never have. I am a vampire, Martin Septim, and that will never change.”
“And that will one day be your downfall.”
“I know, but I will never truly be defeated. Disappearing is a talent of mine.”
“That is about as clear as your body at the moment. Know that you are being watched and judged, Vylanis Korathil.”
He withdrew. I couldn’t help but hiss at his use of my previous name; I hated that name and hearing used again brought back some of the fury of the past. My curiosity satisfied, I left the ruined temple and switched into hunting mode. The occasional guard wandered by, but they weren’t paying much attention; most were likely thinking about returning to the sheets of their beds or drinking wine with a good meal. They wouldn’t notice anything.
The Temple District was, unfortunately for me, home to some of the richest people in Cyrodiil (the situation in the Talos Plaza was similar). These people were usually fat, lazy, and made horrible snacks… Not unlike High Chancellor Quintus. I scanned through the houses and failed to find a single decent target; it was either a nobleman –or woman- or one of their servants. My choice was between a guard and searching another district. The guards, at least, maintained a reasonable level of fitness.
A guard it was, then. The ones patrolling the streets were out of the question; they wore a heavy armor that restricted access to their necks. It prevented decapitation in combat, but it proved annoying for the occasional thirsty vampire. I would have to feed on one of the day guards as they slept in the barracks. More difficult than the average target, but I was thirsty; it burned like fire through my blood, threatening to disrupt my concentration. Now it was more vital than ever that I kept myself well fed. I needed every bit of my mental capabilities. There would be a great deal of political maneuvering in the coming weeks… Or months… Or years. However long it took.
I slipped into the shadows –even though I was almost entirely invisible- and crept along the streets, following the curve of the outer wall until I reached one of the guard towers. The door was locked (as only the guards had access), but it opened almost immediately with a stronger opening spell. Most candles and lamps were dim, but a few still burned brightly; guards sat at tables, chatting and eating their first or last meals of their days. The beds were in the next level. I kept even my breathing silent as I opened the trapdoor and entered the guard quarters.
The day watch snored in their beds. It didn’t seem as though a single one of them was awake. I approached the closest one –a younger Imperial man with hair the color of rust- and ensnared him with my vampiric magic. There was no time to waste; as soon as he was under my control, I bit him. I could taste the alcohol in his blood, but that didn’t matter nearly as much as a person so sweet I felt ill. I could never understand how some vampires could like that. It was disgusting.
As I pulled away, I felt the gaze of another guard piercing through me. The room was dim to mortal eyes, but it was possible that he could see the two punctures in the man’s neck. I turned to face him –an older Imperial with greying hair and silver eyes- and latched my powers of illusion onto him; he was forced back to sleep. When he woke, he would think that it was just a dream. Hopefully he wouldn’t question it. I healed the man I had bitten and immediately transported myself back into my quarters in the White-Gold Tower. The chameleon spell fell as I sat in a chair in front of my desk.
My guards were sleeping in their beds. I could have simply fed on them, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as entertaining. But now that I had fed… I didn’t have anything else to do for the night. It would take a week or more for the full Elder Council to be summoned. The next day would likely involve more meetings with both the military and the odd politician. I shut my eyes and fell asleep once more.
Old habits wouldn’t work for what was to come. Even an old vampire needed to change to hide her condition. Sleeping during the day was no longer an option (unless I feigned ill, but that would attract healers and that was something I did not need); I needed to blend in with the rest of the mortals. Through… Perhaps sleeping in bed would have been a better place to start.
Nothing could be done about him, though, and I simply went about my business. I was left alone when evening arrived and, with nothing more to do, I retired to my bed for a few hours of rest. At midnight, I would rise once more to hunt; it had only been a day, but all that talking had… Left me thirsty.
For a while, my dreams were dominated by thoughts of the hunt; I chased my prey through darkness, catching them one by one and draining them dry. It continued like that until I arrived at the Imperial City. The Temple District, to be exact. The stone form of the Avatar of Akatosh –huge, with a head more than twice the length as that of an ordinary dragon- dominated the center of the district. Its wings, even though they were held at a sharp angle and not entirely extended, still stretched far enough that they passed over the wide streets surrounding the ruined temple and reached out to the houses on either side. The tail went over the soot stained wall of the temple and coiled neatly around it once. Its body, covered in the heavy armor plating of all other dragons, was slightly hunched, creating a bend in its form that led all the way to its open maw.
The stone cracked as I looked at it; streams of dust fell away as the Avatar of Akatosh began to move. His mouth closed and he pulled his wings in, dropping back down onto the temple. The head turned to look at me and I could sense a shadowy presence scrutinizing me from the other side. He stared for a minute –one long and mildly uncomfortable minute- before he returned to his centuries long silent scream of victory and pain.
I awakened suddenly and with a feeling of curiosity; the statue had moved. Why? It was almost as though Martin wished to speak with me. I got out of bed and, after putting on my armor; I shrouded myself with an old chameleon spell and transported myself out of the tower. There was no sense in disturbing any of the guards; security in the city might be lacking, but it certainly wasn’t in the tower. There was no shortage of palace guards. Outside, the only people around –beyond the usual lazy guards- were those drunkenly stumbling to their homes. I ducked and weaved around the drunks and eventually made my way into the Temple District itself.
Unlike the rest of the city, some of the stones of the Temple District were still stained by the smoke and fires of the last assault of the Oblivion Crisis. The cobblestone streets had been repaired and the burned trees replaced, but… The ruined Temple of the One and surrounding area had been left alone out of respect for Martin’s sacrifice. Stones from the blown out roof lined the ground around the rest of the blackened building; above the shattered walls stood the Avatar of Akatosh.
I opened the door to the temple –why the door was still there when there was no roof I wasn’t certain- and approached the old statue. The presence behind it –now palpable in my waking hours- shifted; he was watching, but hesitated to speak. Or perhaps he was being held back by Akatosh. I cast my spell and reached out.
“I was wondering how long it would take for you to try and contact me. You’ve felt my presence in your dreams for months and you’ve only just come,” he paused, “I’ve been watching you for quite some time now. You… And everything else. For 250 years.”
“Why? You defeated Dagon and restored the barrier so that Oblivion could never threaten Tamriel again. You completed your purpose. Why linger?”
“I would have joined my father and his fathers in death, but… I wanted to see what happened to Seryna. Akatosh granted me that last wish by binding me to the statue. In a way, I regret it… Watching a friend suffer while I couldn’t do anything… You wouldn’t understand that. You understand the concept of suffering, having felt it yourself in your early years and used it to break your victims, but you cannot understand what it’s like to watch it happen to a friend you loved dearly. Just as a friend, mind you. Please don’t go there,” he had sensed a sarcastic remark beginning to form in my thoughts and silenced it before it could be heard, “In my death, though, I gained memories that had been lost in life. Specifically the incident where you were sent back in time. That had ceased to exist –to us- when you returned to the 4th Era. It was a curious experience and I’ve come to understand some of the more cryptic things you said to me. And to the others… Watching Seryna grow into the warrior you referenced was surprising. She was brought to me starving and weakened to the point of near death after the battle for Kvatch. In the few months I knew her, she became one of the strongest fighters I had ever seen. She followed that path through the trials of the Arena, to her rise as the Divine Crusader, and her eventual fall as Sheogorath. I’ve been watching you and the Empire since her death. Now I wait to see how this will all play out. I might be tied to Akatosh, but I cannot see forward through time. He hides that from me.”
“You’ll be waiting for many more years, then. This isn’t going to be a short conflict. I expect it will take close to 50 years to reunify Tamriel… And who knows how long it will take to topple the Dominion.”
The presence of Martin Septim became clearer as he pushed further into my mind, “I’m aware of that. Is your only motivation for doing this the fall of the Dominion? No… You seek power and control. I can feel it in you. I saw you defeat Alduin. In a way, I find it amusing how similar you are to him… Even to some of my own ancestors. And myself, in my younger years.”
“We have the blood of dragons in our veins. Or had, in your case. The dragon blood and dragon soul do wonders for one’s personality. Dragons seek power and have an incredible will to dominate. It’s what gave the past Emperors their power. Some were… Better than others. The traits, though, are stronger in me than they were in your own ancestors.”
“Yes, and that makes you the key for what is to come. I have been trying to get your attention because I have a message… You are what Tamriel needs now. You are the only one with the power to reunify the land, as you already know, and you will be watched and judged by all the Nine. Especially Akatosh. What you do reflects on him as well.”
I couldn’t resist laughing silently to myself, “I care not for the Nine. I never have. I am a vampire, Martin Septim, and that will never change.”
“And that will one day be your downfall.”
“I know, but I will never truly be defeated. Disappearing is a talent of mine.”
“That is about as clear as your body at the moment. Know that you are being watched and judged, Vylanis Korathil.”
He withdrew. I couldn’t help but hiss at his use of my previous name; I hated that name and hearing used again brought back some of the fury of the past. My curiosity satisfied, I left the ruined temple and switched into hunting mode. The occasional guard wandered by, but they weren’t paying much attention; most were likely thinking about returning to the sheets of their beds or drinking wine with a good meal. They wouldn’t notice anything.
The Temple District was, unfortunately for me, home to some of the richest people in Cyrodiil (the situation in the Talos Plaza was similar). These people were usually fat, lazy, and made horrible snacks… Not unlike High Chancellor Quintus. I scanned through the houses and failed to find a single decent target; it was either a nobleman –or woman- or one of their servants. My choice was between a guard and searching another district. The guards, at least, maintained a reasonable level of fitness.
A guard it was, then. The ones patrolling the streets were out of the question; they wore a heavy armor that restricted access to their necks. It prevented decapitation in combat, but it proved annoying for the occasional thirsty vampire. I would have to feed on one of the day guards as they slept in the barracks. More difficult than the average target, but I was thirsty; it burned like fire through my blood, threatening to disrupt my concentration. Now it was more vital than ever that I kept myself well fed. I needed every bit of my mental capabilities. There would be a great deal of political maneuvering in the coming weeks… Or months… Or years. However long it took.
I slipped into the shadows –even though I was almost entirely invisible- and crept along the streets, following the curve of the outer wall until I reached one of the guard towers. The door was locked (as only the guards had access), but it opened almost immediately with a stronger opening spell. Most candles and lamps were dim, but a few still burned brightly; guards sat at tables, chatting and eating their first or last meals of their days. The beds were in the next level. I kept even my breathing silent as I opened the trapdoor and entered the guard quarters.
The day watch snored in their beds. It didn’t seem as though a single one of them was awake. I approached the closest one –a younger Imperial man with hair the color of rust- and ensnared him with my vampiric magic. There was no time to waste; as soon as he was under my control, I bit him. I could taste the alcohol in his blood, but that didn’t matter nearly as much as a person so sweet I felt ill. I could never understand how some vampires could like that. It was disgusting.
As I pulled away, I felt the gaze of another guard piercing through me. The room was dim to mortal eyes, but it was possible that he could see the two punctures in the man’s neck. I turned to face him –an older Imperial with greying hair and silver eyes- and latched my powers of illusion onto him; he was forced back to sleep. When he woke, he would think that it was just a dream. Hopefully he wouldn’t question it. I healed the man I had bitten and immediately transported myself back into my quarters in the White-Gold Tower. The chameleon spell fell as I sat in a chair in front of my desk.
My guards were sleeping in their beds. I could have simply fed on them, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as entertaining. But now that I had fed… I didn’t have anything else to do for the night. It would take a week or more for the full Elder Council to be summoned. The next day would likely involve more meetings with both the military and the odd politician. I shut my eyes and fell asleep once more.
Old habits wouldn’t work for what was to come. Even an old vampire needed to change to hide her condition. Sleeping during the day was no longer an option (unless I feigned ill, but that would attract healers and that was something I did not need); I needed to blend in with the rest of the mortals. Through… Perhaps sleeping in bed would have been a better place to start.
Part 5 is even longer still. More than 20 pages, though it's mostly a long criminal investigation with a few moments of the humor that showed up in earlier parts.
Part 6 is currently being written. It'll end with an execution.
Parts 7 and 8 haven't been started yet. 7 will probably be another short one (Vulom bribes her chosen replacements for the Elder Council and they deliberate on whether or not she should be Empress). 8 will most likely be short as well. It will probably end the moment Vulom is crowned.
Sylmirie is building a house with Aicantar and Lieth is treasure hunting with Marcurio. I'm also in the process of trying to get the last few game awards but it's taking me some time.
So then, Felina found all sorts of things wrong with Onmund and their life, and it just spiraled towards her taking him to the shrine. But as he was about to get sucked in, she pulled him away in flurry of tears. 
Hm...I'd like to know more about how she treated the werewolf then. You know what's always fascinated me about taking my character through the DB story line? I always wondered what life was like in that sanctuary (which is ultimately what drove me to write a story of my own about it but that's another matter). The Falkreath sanctuary was such a dreary yet intriguing place. Who else has Mari had a crush on? Serana is the only one I know besides Astrid now.