Post by peraldon on Dec 11, 2011 4:06:21 GMT -5
\| Daemune Harkentolde's Journal |/
This is the story and diary of Daemune Harkentolde, told by himself. Enjoy.
The rain beat down as if it was trying to lent it's anger on the earth. The early morning mists swayed this way and that, encircling the nearby mountain. In the distance, Winterhold could just be seen, but it seemed that the person lying in the cave, screaming, had no thoughts for Winterhold. She was Uniem, a dark elf, and she was giving birth. Nearby was her partner, goading Uniem on. His skin was also black, white hair cascading down his shoulders. Farnum.
They say the release of birth, when the baby comes out, is as fulfilling as finding a house made of gold. They were true. Uniem finally relaxed and Farnum took the baby in his arms, who stared up at his father with unusual eyes: Red and blue.
"Daemune Harkentolde your name shall be", he whispered.
The rain just carried on beating down.
***
Daemune was a young and inquisitive dark elf. From an early age he would climb out of the cave and run down the mountainside, throwing snowballs at imaginary enemies. Uniem always told him not to stray to far from the cave in case of mountain lions or roving bandits.
The young elf never knew a warm bed or a warm abode. His parents didn't have 1 septim between them; they lived in a cave as they couldn't afford even a humble house in nearby Winterhold. Winters were hard and cruel, summers were just hard. The three of them lived off the surrounding land, hunting for deer.
One winter was especially hard and cruel; the family were driven nearly to starvation. They came, begging, at night, to Winterhold. Doors were shut in their faces. Some people even shouted at them, threatened them. It was no hope.
They went back to their cave in outrage. Cold, hunger and bitterness are never a good mix. Nor is death. His mother passed away that sad night of cold or hunger no one will know.
Farnum went into a rage. Early next morning, he secretly went to Winterhold, and planted a slow acting but deadly poisonous liquid into the town's well. One by one people started to drop ill, and the mages of the College were called in to help.
Using spells of truth and healing, they worked out who had poisoned the villagers. Needless to say, they were very angry.
Winter finally abated, and spring came into full bloom. The mountains cleared of deep snow, allowing easier access to and from their home. Pikes. Bows. Armour. Swords. They came fully equipped, rearing to go, all wanting to take revenge on Farnum. Luckily, he saw then coming up the mountain side, and hid Daemune in a large but secret crack in the cave wall.
The villagers became cautious when they reached the cave entrance, and slowly marched into the dark entrance. Farnum stood in the centre of the room, waiting quietly, hoping that Daemune wouldn't be spotted. The men reached the room and the adversaries faced off. No word was spoken. No shout filled the air. Just the heavy footballs of a doomed dark elf as he ran towards his enemy, sword raised, protecting the last of his family.
2 arrows hit him in the chest, and he staggered back, grunting in pain as bright red blood flowed endlessly down his top. It wasn't a long fight, but it seemed to go on forever to Daemune who watched as his father and only surviving parent was slowly killed in front of his eyes.
When the body at last hit the ground, the men burned down the ragged bed and wardrobe, taking food, but leaving most stuff to the fire. The smoke hung heavy in the air until Daemune couldn't breath. Choking, he wriggled further and further into the crack, his ribs scraping against the stone. Daemune's breath came in short, sharp bursts; his vision was starting to black out. Struggling franticly, the young elf cried out in fear as he slipped into the darkness of no thought...
He hung, suspended in black nothing. Weightless. A number of white lights appeared on the horizon, but Daemune was not scared, just curious. They got brighter as they got nearer, and the dark elf drifted towards them, working out what they were. Finally reaching him, the lights surrounded Daemune in a nimbus of white light. He felt engulfed, and a sharp tugging of pain at the back of his skull brought Daemune back to a much darker and more cold world....
A roughy, furry hand grabbed Daemune's in a firm, bordering on painful, grasp. Opening his eyes, the dark elf looked into the face of a vicious looking cat person. He had a scar running from his right temple to jaw, which gave him an even more menacing look. The giant cat was staring at his body hungrily, but when Daemune coughed from the smoke, it looked up, eyes widening in shock when it saw Daemune's face. The cat stumbled back in shock, mumbling words to quickly for the young elf to hear. Picking himself up, Daemune crawled into a corner of the smallish cave they were in and stared at the bizarre creature, haunted eyes searching for clues as to the weird behaviour.
"No...It cannot b- Those eyes! They remind me o- But that is impossible!", The cat was speaking very quickly, seemingly only half forming it's thoughts. Springing forward, the strange creature held Daemune's hand in a firm grip, and dragged him towards a darker part of the cave, which turned out to be a sturdy wooden door. It talked to Daemune as the cat creature took him.
"It was lucky I found you! I smelt smoke, and came looking for the cause. Your leg was limply hanging out of a crack in the ceiling. Arrgghh! I'm so hungry! I was going to eat you. But those eyes! Blue and red! Just like my dream! It must be a sign from the God's!"
They had reached the door and gone through, revealing another cave that led out onto a mountainside. A fire crackled merrily in the centre, casting dark shadows over the small bed that lay to the side, next to cooking pot and some water bags. The cat led Daemune into the cave and let go of him.
"I'm a kaajiit, by the look on your face I think you have never seen one before! You may call me Hiding-Knife. Even I forgot my real name..."
Hiding-Knife stared off into the fire sadly, but suddenly his gaze snapped back to Daemune with a fierce intensity,"You mute, Elf?!"
He shook his head at Hiding-Knife, but half way through, the Kajiit held Daemune's face with his paw and stared intently into his eyes.
"Then speak", it said quietly. Then all of a sudden it's head popped up as another thought entered Hiding-Knife's head. He looked down solemnly. "Where are your parents, little one?" it asked quietly.
Daemune's face melted and, tears running down his face, he hurled himself at the Kajiit. Hiding-Knife held him in a warm but slightly uncomfortable embrace, putting two and two together, guessing that they had just died. They just sat there, while the young elf cried out to the sky, for a very long time.
Hiding-Knife couldn't explain what was happening. Last night it had had a dream. The dream was nothing more then total blackness, but with a circle of red and a circle of blue rotating around each other. Red and blue. Just like his eyes.
***
With nowhere else to go, and Hiding-Knife's continual fascination of him, Daemune stayed with Hiding-Knife, who tought him how to survive in this cruel harsh world...
"You can do this!", Hiding-Knife shouted across the chasm. Daemune stared in fright at the gap in the mountain that led down to a long and painful death. The Kajiit was on the other side, having just jumped; today's lesson was about getting to difficult places. Daemune had never failed in any test so far, from the fake creeping up to his mentor and fake stabbing him in the back, to managing to go into Winterhold and stealing a certain item. This, however, was the first time he couldn't do it: heights always did his head in.
Later that night, when they were sitting around the fire, Hiding-Knife asked what the Dunmer would do if he died. Daemune pondered this for a long time, but eventually answered in a clipped tone that meant the conversation was over,"I will cross that bridge when I get to it."
Little did he know that the bridge was just around the bend....
***
The rustle of leaves as the stag lifted his head to the wind, sniffing the air. Daemune and Hiding-Knife crouched behind a fallen log, down wind, within bowshot of their prey. The evening sunlight danced through the leaves, and a unknown bird chirped at the world. Adrenaline pumping, the Dunmer poked his head over the log and looked at the stag, which had carried on browsing the forest floor. Bow came up. String pulled taut. Arrow loosed. Rearing up and bellowing, the stag ran off into the depths of the forest, arrow landing spot on where the beast was. Daemune cursed under his breath, and walked off to his arrow, Hiding-Knife following.
They both stopped and stared at the projectile in wonder; how did he miss? The snap of a twig told them that the stag had known of someone, or something else. Another snap, but this time from behind them. Mentor and student swirled round to go back to back, they drew swords, gut instincts telling them of danger.
Shadows crept around them, surrounding the two like a pack of wolves encircling prey. Dunmer and Kajiit span around as a person stepped out from behind a tree, followed closely by two more people. Hiding-Knife took one look at the soldiers, in their fine polished armour, and gasped.
"Imperials! You finally cought up with me! After all this time....", the Kajiit stumbled back in shock as the Imperial captain pulled out a scroll. He read it in a monotone voice.
"By the order of the Jarl of Whiterun, I say the man hunt for Hiding-Knife is over. For multiple assassinations of civilians, as well as a noble and thievery of multiple precious items, you have been ordered to be executed at the block or right here. So says our Jarl."
Daemune looked in anguish as Hiding-Knife held his sword up in a defensiveness position, face set in grim determination. The captain drew his weapon, and as he did, a number of more imperials walked out of the undergrowth, some with bows but most with melee weapons. They were surrounded and outnumbered by at least six to one.
Knowing that victory was at hand, the Imperials ran at the two assassins, hungering for blood. Daemune ducked under an arrow and managed to get his sword up into the greave of the front soldier who cried out in pain, gripping his red leg. The Dark Elf and Kajiit pirouetted around each other, facing the other way. Stabbing at the face of the writhing man, Hiding-Knife let out a feral growl as a arrow skimmed past his left arm, leaving a line of blood. Daemune was parrying with an Imperial as a sword gashed into his right hand. Shouting out, the Dunmer used the pain to give him strength enough to stab into the attackers face and bring himself inline with the other soldier who was readying his already wet blade.
Mean-while, Hiding-Knife had felled another Imperial and was facing the captain; they were sizing out each other. The Kajiit raised his bloody sword and brought it swooping down on the Imperials head. Blocking, the captain uncovered a hidden knife underneath his thick bracelets. Hiding-Knife let out another growl as the blade was sunk deep into his sword arm. Daemune turned around at the sound at watched in horror as his mentor's sword arm hung limply at his side as he quickly backed off. The captain gave him step for step, slashing at the dodging Kajiit. Daemune charged across the clearing to his friend. Hiding-Knife's eyes widened in shock as the captain's sword was plunged deep into his chest. Time slowed. The Kajiit started to slip off the red blade. Daemune jumped at the captain. Hiding-Knife's eyes turned blank, and his face transformed from a fierce expression to pure calmness. A hard hand held Daemune as he saw his only loved one die yet again in front of his eyes. "NOOOOOOOO!!!", the Dunmer wasn't even aware of speaking as he tried to get out of the grasp of the Imperials to get to the captain. A massive explosion of pain went of in Daemune's head, quickly followed by a white light then blackness. The last thing that the Dunmer saw was the Captain sticking his sword yet again into the dead body of his adversary....
Daemune woke up into a fuzzy and hard world. He was in a tiny cell, somewhere deep in a dungeon, probably left to rot. He rocked to himself in the corner as he recalled Hiding-Knife's death. Everyone he grew to love and trust died. In front of him. A sob racked his aching body as Daemune fought against the pain of loss. It filled all his thoughts, trying to break through any crack in his personality, trying to get control of him. Daemune felt like a rock feels when it is falling down a massive waterfall: Lost; lonely; bewildered; hurt. Angry. With a cry of frustration, Daemune let the pain fall over him, he was absorbed in it. It took over his soul. And he felt whole...
The guard hated this duty. Stopping the deep prisoners from escaping. Hah! As if they even could! Most of them were half dead anyway and no sane person would try and break a thick iron door to get out. He sat down at his rickety chair and table, illuminated by the only candle in this forsaken place. The guard lazily reached for his knife that he was using to re-carve the table. But it wasn't there. He looked up as a shadow put out the candle, plunging everything into darkness. The guard quickly pulled out his sword and tried to quietly get to the door at the end of the corridor. A knife, his knife, was slashed across his throat, and he gave out a small gurgle as he sank to the floor. Daemune lit the candle again, his lock-pick still between his teeth. Quickly, he put on the guards armour and weapon, making sure the helmet covered as much of his face as possible; one look and they would know who he actually was.
The door creaked open as Daemune walked out of the prison and up a long flight of curving stairs. After what seemed to be a very long time, he finally reached another door that lead into a courtyard. The courtyard was surrounded by tall walls, and at the opposite side was a large open gate where trees and rolling hills could be seen beyond. Guards were everywhere. They milled around the courtyard and patrolled along the battlements, each dressed in fine armour, strutting like peacocks. Daemune trotted towards the gate, weaving in and out of the other guards, trying to keep a low profile. He very nearly reached the gate when a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.
"Hello there friend!", the guard said in a voice that is normally used by bards when they are telling epic sagas, "How are you this fine, sunny morning?!"
Daemune tried to keep the shadow of the helmet over his face as he vaguely nodded his head.
"Come on! I can't see you! Lift that helmet up!", the guard roughly but friendly lifted the helmet off Daemune's head and was met with not quite what he was expecting; jet black skin and a blue and a red eye. He took one glance, eyes widening in surprise before yelling, "Intruder!!".
Daemune pushed the guard away with all his strength before running straight at the closing wooden gate. All around him, guards were sprinting at him; the ones on the battlements were pulling their bows. Realising that he wouldn't get under the gate, Daemune jumped onto the wooden structure, and began to quickly climb up. The guards were very close behind, too close for the archers to safely shoot. Reaching the top of the gate, Daemune swung himself over the battlements onto of the wall, only to be confronted with a guard. And a very sharp sword. The Dark Elf didn't even slow down, and he bull rushed the unprepared guard, knocking over the other battlements and down the outside of the wall, closely followed by a host of arrows. Just before they hit the hard ground, Daemune manoeuvred the guard to be underneath him, letting gravity do his dirty work. Quickly picking himself up off the dead person beneath him, he ran off into a nearby copse of trees. Freedom.
***
Daemune travelled the land for a number of months, scraping out a living in disguise. Until he reached a certain town that called out to him....
I will say no more of where this town is, or where I made my home, as you already know. By Aldiun himself, you're probably sitting in my study reading this! Anyway, on with the story...
Daemune eventually came across a large cavern. The Dark Elf spent about 5 years making a base of operations in it. Now is the time he will become infamous and feared. Now is the time when you will quiver in your beds hoping, praying, that he doesn't come knocking on your door...
~Daemune Harkentolde~
Please note that although this is In Character, it is OOC for you. This means no using the following text to help you in game or IC on the forums. Thank you
This is the story and diary of Daemune Harkentolde, told by himself. Enjoy.
The rain beat down as if it was trying to lent it's anger on the earth. The early morning mists swayed this way and that, encircling the nearby mountain. In the distance, Winterhold could just be seen, but it seemed that the person lying in the cave, screaming, had no thoughts for Winterhold. She was Uniem, a dark elf, and she was giving birth. Nearby was her partner, goading Uniem on. His skin was also black, white hair cascading down his shoulders. Farnum.
They say the release of birth, when the baby comes out, is as fulfilling as finding a house made of gold. They were true. Uniem finally relaxed and Farnum took the baby in his arms, who stared up at his father with unusual eyes: Red and blue.
"Daemune Harkentolde your name shall be", he whispered.
The rain just carried on beating down.
***
Daemune was a young and inquisitive dark elf. From an early age he would climb out of the cave and run down the mountainside, throwing snowballs at imaginary enemies. Uniem always told him not to stray to far from the cave in case of mountain lions or roving bandits.
The young elf never knew a warm bed or a warm abode. His parents didn't have 1 septim between them; they lived in a cave as they couldn't afford even a humble house in nearby Winterhold. Winters were hard and cruel, summers were just hard. The three of them lived off the surrounding land, hunting for deer.
One winter was especially hard and cruel; the family were driven nearly to starvation. They came, begging, at night, to Winterhold. Doors were shut in their faces. Some people even shouted at them, threatened them. It was no hope.
They went back to their cave in outrage. Cold, hunger and bitterness are never a good mix. Nor is death. His mother passed away that sad night of cold or hunger no one will know.
Farnum went into a rage. Early next morning, he secretly went to Winterhold, and planted a slow acting but deadly poisonous liquid into the town's well. One by one people started to drop ill, and the mages of the College were called in to help.
Using spells of truth and healing, they worked out who had poisoned the villagers. Needless to say, they were very angry.
Winter finally abated, and spring came into full bloom. The mountains cleared of deep snow, allowing easier access to and from their home. Pikes. Bows. Armour. Swords. They came fully equipped, rearing to go, all wanting to take revenge on Farnum. Luckily, he saw then coming up the mountain side, and hid Daemune in a large but secret crack in the cave wall.
The villagers became cautious when they reached the cave entrance, and slowly marched into the dark entrance. Farnum stood in the centre of the room, waiting quietly, hoping that Daemune wouldn't be spotted. The men reached the room and the adversaries faced off. No word was spoken. No shout filled the air. Just the heavy footballs of a doomed dark elf as he ran towards his enemy, sword raised, protecting the last of his family.
2 arrows hit him in the chest, and he staggered back, grunting in pain as bright red blood flowed endlessly down his top. It wasn't a long fight, but it seemed to go on forever to Daemune who watched as his father and only surviving parent was slowly killed in front of his eyes.
When the body at last hit the ground, the men burned down the ragged bed and wardrobe, taking food, but leaving most stuff to the fire. The smoke hung heavy in the air until Daemune couldn't breath. Choking, he wriggled further and further into the crack, his ribs scraping against the stone. Daemune's breath came in short, sharp bursts; his vision was starting to black out. Struggling franticly, the young elf cried out in fear as he slipped into the darkness of no thought...
He hung, suspended in black nothing. Weightless. A number of white lights appeared on the horizon, but Daemune was not scared, just curious. They got brighter as they got nearer, and the dark elf drifted towards them, working out what they were. Finally reaching him, the lights surrounded Daemune in a nimbus of white light. He felt engulfed, and a sharp tugging of pain at the back of his skull brought Daemune back to a much darker and more cold world....
A roughy, furry hand grabbed Daemune's in a firm, bordering on painful, grasp. Opening his eyes, the dark elf looked into the face of a vicious looking cat person. He had a scar running from his right temple to jaw, which gave him an even more menacing look. The giant cat was staring at his body hungrily, but when Daemune coughed from the smoke, it looked up, eyes widening in shock when it saw Daemune's face. The cat stumbled back in shock, mumbling words to quickly for the young elf to hear. Picking himself up, Daemune crawled into a corner of the smallish cave they were in and stared at the bizarre creature, haunted eyes searching for clues as to the weird behaviour.
"No...It cannot b- Those eyes! They remind me o- But that is impossible!", The cat was speaking very quickly, seemingly only half forming it's thoughts. Springing forward, the strange creature held Daemune's hand in a firm grip, and dragged him towards a darker part of the cave, which turned out to be a sturdy wooden door. It talked to Daemune as the cat creature took him.
"It was lucky I found you! I smelt smoke, and came looking for the cause. Your leg was limply hanging out of a crack in the ceiling. Arrgghh! I'm so hungry! I was going to eat you. But those eyes! Blue and red! Just like my dream! It must be a sign from the God's!"
They had reached the door and gone through, revealing another cave that led out onto a mountainside. A fire crackled merrily in the centre, casting dark shadows over the small bed that lay to the side, next to cooking pot and some water bags. The cat led Daemune into the cave and let go of him.
"I'm a kaajiit, by the look on your face I think you have never seen one before! You may call me Hiding-Knife. Even I forgot my real name..."
Hiding-Knife stared off into the fire sadly, but suddenly his gaze snapped back to Daemune with a fierce intensity,"You mute, Elf?!"
He shook his head at Hiding-Knife, but half way through, the Kajiit held Daemune's face with his paw and stared intently into his eyes.
"Then speak", it said quietly. Then all of a sudden it's head popped up as another thought entered Hiding-Knife's head. He looked down solemnly. "Where are your parents, little one?" it asked quietly.
Daemune's face melted and, tears running down his face, he hurled himself at the Kajiit. Hiding-Knife held him in a warm but slightly uncomfortable embrace, putting two and two together, guessing that they had just died. They just sat there, while the young elf cried out to the sky, for a very long time.
Hiding-Knife couldn't explain what was happening. Last night it had had a dream. The dream was nothing more then total blackness, but with a circle of red and a circle of blue rotating around each other. Red and blue. Just like his eyes.
***
With nowhere else to go, and Hiding-Knife's continual fascination of him, Daemune stayed with Hiding-Knife, who tought him how to survive in this cruel harsh world...
"You can do this!", Hiding-Knife shouted across the chasm. Daemune stared in fright at the gap in the mountain that led down to a long and painful death. The Kajiit was on the other side, having just jumped; today's lesson was about getting to difficult places. Daemune had never failed in any test so far, from the fake creeping up to his mentor and fake stabbing him in the back, to managing to go into Winterhold and stealing a certain item. This, however, was the first time he couldn't do it: heights always did his head in.
Later that night, when they were sitting around the fire, Hiding-Knife asked what the Dunmer would do if he died. Daemune pondered this for a long time, but eventually answered in a clipped tone that meant the conversation was over,"I will cross that bridge when I get to it."
Little did he know that the bridge was just around the bend....
***
The rustle of leaves as the stag lifted his head to the wind, sniffing the air. Daemune and Hiding-Knife crouched behind a fallen log, down wind, within bowshot of their prey. The evening sunlight danced through the leaves, and a unknown bird chirped at the world. Adrenaline pumping, the Dunmer poked his head over the log and looked at the stag, which had carried on browsing the forest floor. Bow came up. String pulled taut. Arrow loosed. Rearing up and bellowing, the stag ran off into the depths of the forest, arrow landing spot on where the beast was. Daemune cursed under his breath, and walked off to his arrow, Hiding-Knife following.
They both stopped and stared at the projectile in wonder; how did he miss? The snap of a twig told them that the stag had known of someone, or something else. Another snap, but this time from behind them. Mentor and student swirled round to go back to back, they drew swords, gut instincts telling them of danger.
Shadows crept around them, surrounding the two like a pack of wolves encircling prey. Dunmer and Kajiit span around as a person stepped out from behind a tree, followed closely by two more people. Hiding-Knife took one look at the soldiers, in their fine polished armour, and gasped.
"Imperials! You finally cought up with me! After all this time....", the Kajiit stumbled back in shock as the Imperial captain pulled out a scroll. He read it in a monotone voice.
"By the order of the Jarl of Whiterun, I say the man hunt for Hiding-Knife is over. For multiple assassinations of civilians, as well as a noble and thievery of multiple precious items, you have been ordered to be executed at the block or right here. So says our Jarl."
Daemune looked in anguish as Hiding-Knife held his sword up in a defensiveness position, face set in grim determination. The captain drew his weapon, and as he did, a number of more imperials walked out of the undergrowth, some with bows but most with melee weapons. They were surrounded and outnumbered by at least six to one.
Knowing that victory was at hand, the Imperials ran at the two assassins, hungering for blood. Daemune ducked under an arrow and managed to get his sword up into the greave of the front soldier who cried out in pain, gripping his red leg. The Dark Elf and Kajiit pirouetted around each other, facing the other way. Stabbing at the face of the writhing man, Hiding-Knife let out a feral growl as a arrow skimmed past his left arm, leaving a line of blood. Daemune was parrying with an Imperial as a sword gashed into his right hand. Shouting out, the Dunmer used the pain to give him strength enough to stab into the attackers face and bring himself inline with the other soldier who was readying his already wet blade.
Mean-while, Hiding-Knife had felled another Imperial and was facing the captain; they were sizing out each other. The Kajiit raised his bloody sword and brought it swooping down on the Imperials head. Blocking, the captain uncovered a hidden knife underneath his thick bracelets. Hiding-Knife let out another growl as the blade was sunk deep into his sword arm. Daemune turned around at the sound at watched in horror as his mentor's sword arm hung limply at his side as he quickly backed off. The captain gave him step for step, slashing at the dodging Kajiit. Daemune charged across the clearing to his friend. Hiding-Knife's eyes widened in shock as the captain's sword was plunged deep into his chest. Time slowed. The Kajiit started to slip off the red blade. Daemune jumped at the captain. Hiding-Knife's eyes turned blank, and his face transformed from a fierce expression to pure calmness. A hard hand held Daemune as he saw his only loved one die yet again in front of his eyes. "NOOOOOOOO!!!", the Dunmer wasn't even aware of speaking as he tried to get out of the grasp of the Imperials to get to the captain. A massive explosion of pain went of in Daemune's head, quickly followed by a white light then blackness. The last thing that the Dunmer saw was the Captain sticking his sword yet again into the dead body of his adversary....
Daemune woke up into a fuzzy and hard world. He was in a tiny cell, somewhere deep in a dungeon, probably left to rot. He rocked to himself in the corner as he recalled Hiding-Knife's death. Everyone he grew to love and trust died. In front of him. A sob racked his aching body as Daemune fought against the pain of loss. It filled all his thoughts, trying to break through any crack in his personality, trying to get control of him. Daemune felt like a rock feels when it is falling down a massive waterfall: Lost; lonely; bewildered; hurt. Angry. With a cry of frustration, Daemune let the pain fall over him, he was absorbed in it. It took over his soul. And he felt whole...
The guard hated this duty. Stopping the deep prisoners from escaping. Hah! As if they even could! Most of them were half dead anyway and no sane person would try and break a thick iron door to get out. He sat down at his rickety chair and table, illuminated by the only candle in this forsaken place. The guard lazily reached for his knife that he was using to re-carve the table. But it wasn't there. He looked up as a shadow put out the candle, plunging everything into darkness. The guard quickly pulled out his sword and tried to quietly get to the door at the end of the corridor. A knife, his knife, was slashed across his throat, and he gave out a small gurgle as he sank to the floor. Daemune lit the candle again, his lock-pick still between his teeth. Quickly, he put on the guards armour and weapon, making sure the helmet covered as much of his face as possible; one look and they would know who he actually was.
The door creaked open as Daemune walked out of the prison and up a long flight of curving stairs. After what seemed to be a very long time, he finally reached another door that lead into a courtyard. The courtyard was surrounded by tall walls, and at the opposite side was a large open gate where trees and rolling hills could be seen beyond. Guards were everywhere. They milled around the courtyard and patrolled along the battlements, each dressed in fine armour, strutting like peacocks. Daemune trotted towards the gate, weaving in and out of the other guards, trying to keep a low profile. He very nearly reached the gate when a hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.
"Hello there friend!", the guard said in a voice that is normally used by bards when they are telling epic sagas, "How are you this fine, sunny morning?!"
Daemune tried to keep the shadow of the helmet over his face as he vaguely nodded his head.
"Come on! I can't see you! Lift that helmet up!", the guard roughly but friendly lifted the helmet off Daemune's head and was met with not quite what he was expecting; jet black skin and a blue and a red eye. He took one glance, eyes widening in surprise before yelling, "Intruder!!".
Daemune pushed the guard away with all his strength before running straight at the closing wooden gate. All around him, guards were sprinting at him; the ones on the battlements were pulling their bows. Realising that he wouldn't get under the gate, Daemune jumped onto the wooden structure, and began to quickly climb up. The guards were very close behind, too close for the archers to safely shoot. Reaching the top of the gate, Daemune swung himself over the battlements onto of the wall, only to be confronted with a guard. And a very sharp sword. The Dark Elf didn't even slow down, and he bull rushed the unprepared guard, knocking over the other battlements and down the outside of the wall, closely followed by a host of arrows. Just before they hit the hard ground, Daemune manoeuvred the guard to be underneath him, letting gravity do his dirty work. Quickly picking himself up off the dead person beneath him, he ran off into a nearby copse of trees. Freedom.
***
Daemune travelled the land for a number of months, scraping out a living in disguise. Until he reached a certain town that called out to him....
I will say no more of where this town is, or where I made my home, as you already know. By Aldiun himself, you're probably sitting in my study reading this! Anyway, on with the story...
Daemune eventually came across a large cavern. The Dark Elf spent about 5 years making a base of operations in it. Now is the time he will become infamous and feared. Now is the time when you will quiver in your beds hoping, praying, that he doesn't come knocking on your door...
~Daemune Harkentolde~
