Tek's writing challenge: SigInt

a_sigint_ninja

a_sigint_ninja

New Member
Laz harassed me into doing this, so he's on scapegoat duty.

Well, this is just a short piece I wrote (again, under harassment from Laz), about something from Morrowind.

In other words, it's not especially good. As usual.:confused:

Vivec
Vivec, Secret Library.​

Why these obsessions, I do not know. Two mages fascinated by the Dwemer, giving missions that forced me into the dead cities of such, cities still haunted by the near-invisible ghosts. Another, a necromancer, desiring someone’s skull from a tomb.

And then, there are the vampires. If Skink had stopped at wanting Vampires of Vvardenfell, Volume II, I would not have wondered. But seeking a cure for the condition? Do they have no apprentices for such a task?

I did not find it difficult to enter the library itself. One Ordinator even whispered thanks to me for catching a murder, and the others merely tolerated my presence. So, here I am in the secret room, with camouflage running out as I seek the book.
Not here, nor on the next shelf. Wait, what is this? A slim pamphlet, entitled “Nerevar at Red Mountain.” I lift it, and skim the pages.

Then Nerevar told his queen and generals all that had transpired under Red Mountain and how the Dwemer had used special tools to turn their people into immortals and of the wondrous power of the Heart of Lorkhan. The Tribunal decided that the Chimer should learn how to use this power so that Nerevar might claim Resdayn and the world for their people. Nerevar did not expect or want this, so he asked his queen and generals to help him summon Azura yet again for her guidance. But the Tribunal had become as greedy as Kagrenac upon hearing of the power of the Heart and they coveted it. They made ritual as if to summon Azura as Nerevar wanted but Almalexia used poisoned candles and Sotha Sil used poisoned robes and Vivec used poisoned invocations. Nerevar was murdered.

They would not. Then an impression, a memory of poison. They would.

Vivec, later.​

The gods are dead. Dagoth Ur, Sotha Sil, Almalexia, Vivec. All dead by my hand save one. Vivec last, falling before my sword as did the others. What knowledge did he have of this, and could he have escaped it if he had known? Would he wish to escape it?

The irony of slaying Vivec with Hopesfire does not escape me. Nerevar would have used his blade, not Almalexia’s. But I am not Nerevar; I am Nerevarine.

And the Ordinators will find the writ for Vivec tonight. The leader of the Morag Tong indeed had sanctioned license to kill him.
 
Welcome, I'm glad you decided to join us. Your story has a very good start. I'm wondering who your intended audience is for this story? Even if you're not planning to expand or publish your story, I think it is still important to identify your audience, because that will greatly effect how you approach your writing. If the story is to be targeted only to people who are already familiar with Morrowind, then you can freely use names from the story/game or mention events from the story/game without explaining them. But if your audience will include those who have never played the game, you'll want to greatly limit the number of unfamiliar names or events from the game the reader has never experienced, especially towards the beginning of your story.
Just a general suggestion for you - nice work, and I'm very much looking forward to seeing more of your writing. :)

Paul
 
Thank you. Yes, it was actually written more for people familiar with the game-somewhat of a retrospective for the main quest. The last line was intended to be somewhat of an inside joke.:eek:

For writing today...I wrote over 100 words for a novel I'm currently working on that I was putting up on CCGR. I'm not planning to post any of it until this chapter is completed, but I'll see if I can put a short story up tomorrow. Though such stories tend to be somewhat strange, and my recent experiments with first-person perspective seem to increase that strangeness. Perhaps it comes from writing from the perspective of a character who is confused about what is going on. Though, that perspective also seems to reinforce the puzzlement by drawing me into what's going on there.

I'm probably analyzing too much, as I usually do. It seems that I can analyze word choice for anything, and analyze how linguistics interact with my thoughts...ok, I'll stop now.
 
Ok...another writing piece from me.:eek:

This is set in a world I'm working on, and Laz might recognize one of the characters. Short, unedited...I'm going to go work on the novel more.

Arekars​
I still cannot remember the first assassinations, the battles, the night we razed Zzarikl. But no matter, for I can remember that I was there.

*****

He stood across from me in the inn, a gray cloak over one shoulder, and an oak spear in his left hand.

I sneezed when he reached a thin hand towards me. “You came for the training, Werin?”

My nod seemed confirmation enough. His hand clenched my arm, and pulled me towards a table with enough layers of dust to justify my sneeze. “What will this involve?” I said, slowly setting myself into a chair as it wobbled between three legs.

“You already know.” He leaned forward, and lowered his voice. “Immortality. And the price, well, you will pay that first.” His spear clattered to the floor as he drew a dagger and stabbed me through the heart.
 
You'd better have, Laz.:p

Well, I said that I'd respond to this here.

Neirai the Forgiven said:
...why do you write then?

No, don't worry, I'm not trying to put you down But why do you write? Don't you write so that you can get people to hear the thoughts that you have in your head, or to help others to feel the emotions that you feel or to, say-y-y, allow them to experience something like Morrowind in a similar way to the way that you do in your own mind?

The fact is that if you write, you write to make a point. Perhaps not a direct polemic moral point, but to make a point. For example, in my "Weavers" story, I'm trying to make the point that in real life, good and evil are hardly ever polemic, but such things as absolute good and absolute evil still exist. My "perfect summer job" story exists to get people to think about the idea that for everybody, even say, Bill Gates or Michael Jordan or (in this instance) James Bond, their jobs are still jobs. You know, boring annoying periods of time where someone else makes you do things for them in exchange for money.

Just something to think about Perhaps you're not aware that you're writing towards a point.
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Perhaps you didn't understand what I meant by a point. I write the story for the sake of writing the story first and foremost. I've seen too many books, especially Christian ones, where the story and characters were sacrificed to get across the author's point.

I just write what the voices tell me.;) And I'm not willing to attempt writing in a situation where I'll have to force characters into doing things they wouldn't do, especially since I can't always predict their behavior.

Though I don't know if that will make any sense.
 
Well, I'll post another Morrowind story today, and then go back to the other writing.:eek:

Maybe I'll continue this tomorrow...though I'm not pleased with it.

*posts it before I decide not to*

Sirilonwe​
I've always hated Vivec. Not just the layout of the city, with each compound looking near identical, but the inhabitants as well. Especially Crassius Curio and his playwriting, but that subject would require an explanation somewhat disturbing in the telling.

Not that I know nothing of disturbing. Merely the dreams alone would be a sufficient introduction, or my work as an assassin. I cannot find it strange that such work is still open to me.

In Vivec, I ran from the temple through St. Olms and Arena cantons, reaching the Foreign Quarter before dawn. If the pickpockets had not delayed me, I would have reached it sooner, but I cannot change what happened. And what fool would try to steal from someone in full armor, with a Daedric weapon in one hand?

Once inside the Foreign Quarter, I walked up until I reached the central plaza, then entered the Mages Guild. Two of them stood right inside the door, and ignored me until I was but an arms-length away. Then, one whispered "Vampire."

The other stared at me for a moment, and said, "Your kind are not welcome here, though we will not kill you. Leave now."

I ignored them, and continued into the building until I found Sirilonwe. She stared at me for a moment, then motioned for me to follow her into a small room.

"I need someone killed," she said. "Shashev is a rival of mine, at the Ald'Skar Inn in Ald'ruhn. I have no wish to be implicated in his death. Kill him and bring me his key as proof."

My only response was a nod, my face impassive. Sirilonwe backed away from me, disgust mixed with arrogance on her pale Altmer face. "Remember, this must not be connected to me."

I nodded again, and recalled myself to my home in Balmora. While there, I took the dagger of Symmacus, then found Vampires of Vvardenfell: Volume II in my collection and read that until nightfall.

Once the sky had darkened enough, I snuck outside, and began the long run north to Caldera.
 
Her.:eek:

Many of the mages are fascinated by vampires. And they don't tend to be the paranoid and xenophobic native Dunmer either.

I'll probably add on it tomorrow...assassination is just a job, after all.:cool:
 
Thanks, Laz.

Here's the continuation, then.:confused:
__________
I reached Caldera half-way through the night, and gave myself an hour to rest in a lonely corner of Skenk's Shovel. No sense in attracting attention.

Then, I turned north again towards Ald'ruhn. Often, I glanced at the moons as I ran, though whether from a concern for the light or a mere fascination with their appearance I cannot say.

Upon finally reaching Ald'ruhn, I activated my chameleon and snuck through the city. The Redorans were too honorable, too rigid, for me to risk contact with them.

The Ald'Skar Inn sat closer to Under-Skar then other, less reputable, establishments such as The Rat in the Pot. A guard wandered around inside, and I walked right behind him to reach Shashev's room.

He didn't notice me until I clapped a hand over his mouth and slew him with one dagger-thrust into his back. His body dropped to the floor, and I swiftly searched it, coming up with the key and an enchanted ring. I left the body there for the guards to find. At least it would not appear as if a vampire had killed him.

Now, I hungered.
 
A vampire eating... I probably don't want to know.

Wow. I didn't realize assassinations were so involved in Morrowind.
 
Yeah...more writing...not very good today.:eek:
_____________________
Balmora, again. It is a better city than the haughty Vivec, or Ald'ruhn with its honor-frozen Redoran. Sadrith Mora would appeal to me, save for that Telvanni style. Plants?

But, I remain in Balmora, in my expansive home, filled with relics from my travels. Perhaps some should be sold, but I have no need for the septims that would be obtained from such. I could not spend them in Morrowind in any case.

Rest, and the nightmares again. What could cause dreams of ending as shattered glass? Is it some trick of Molag Bal?

I transported myself to Vivec, and ran from the temple to the foreign quarter, avoiding the arrogant glances of the Ordinators. They doubly considered me scum now.

To the Plaza, Mages Guild, and Sirilonwe's quarters.

"So, you killed him, creature," Sirilonwe said. "You may keep what you found on his body." She glanced towards my eyes, all that showed of my face beneath the black hood and mask, then snapped her gaze away. "I may have another task for you, vampire. I require three portions of vampire dust for my research. Bring it to me. You can find some at apothecaries, but I would prefer it fresh."

I felt myself smile beneath the mask. She thought me merely a clever beast, that would kill its own kind on a whim. What folly. I killed no one on a whim. Else, half the population of Balmora would be dead by now.

But any death in the town known to be committed by a vampire would bring the guards upon me. I would have to find another place at which to satisfy my hunger.
 
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Shattered glass... sounds like something that happened to a villain in Dick Tracy(although it was a load of glass shards that fell on him... ouch)
 
Amicus Dei of [FoG];222160 said:
WOOT Morrowind! <3. I thought about that first story... do you get to kill Vivec? I've killed the other three but not him...
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You can do so if you wish, merely enter the palace and attack him.
 
Well, these gods previously gave you access to them because they wanted you to do something...and they were mortals, once. Mortals that knew Nerevar.
 
Three portions of vampire dust from my private collection. The reward for this will likely not be worth my trouble, but it may help me retain some favor with the Mages Guild. Now, I seem merely a curiosity to them.

The dust delivered, and my reward is some cheap amulet that I could have enchanted myself. Though now I cannot even pay an enchanter to make one for me. Cowards.
At least they are not such fools as that boy in Ald'ruhn. To think that merely being a vampire would make one invincible. He thinks me weak now, but his death would have been so easy to cause. Much too easy.

Rest again, with more dreams, more blood, more thoughts of my own death. So many have tried to cause the last already.

I dug through my journal, hoping to find anything that could help me. Ah, there. A vampire stronghold near Khuul. Perhaps there might remain something there that could inform me.

The run north did not drain all my strength. This strange condition has seen to that. And I avoided the village because of it. The temptation would be too strong.

I wandered along the path to the east, watching, hoping to find some shelter before the sun returned.

A cave. Perhaps there.

I slipped open the door, and walked into a sword-wielding Redguard. His death...ah, but the hunger was sated.
 
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