Ashwing 2- A blessing not disguised

  •             He looked blindly at the barred window high above him, and the trickle of water which ran down from the sill, seeing only his father addressing his peers two nights ago, dressed in his best finery and with confidence and outrage in his cultured voice. His mind drifted further back, thinking of all the documents, stolen or forged, that he had passed to the court over the years, all the people who suddenly thought it would be a good idea to let his employers have their way- and it had all been his doing, at the behest of his father. Despair washed over him, as he knew there was nothing he could do to escape even if he wanted to, with final resignation not too far away when suddenly there was a thump outside and the light from the torch the door guard was holding wavered for a second. Less than a minute after that the door swung open, suspiciously silent on its rusty hinges, and his mother’s voice came through the gap:

                “I shouldn’t be surprised that this has ended this way. Your father always was about as trustworthy as a skeever’s smile” she said, quietly, “but I had hoped that he would have the guts to protect his only son.”

                Adrienne looked in, seeing Faric’s profile as he faced the window “Oi! You had better get up right this moment or you will deserve to be executed, by the Divines sake!” Ironically it was the fact which she called on the Divines which convinced Faric to move, as she had only called on them twice that he knew of- once when she caught him trying to sneak back into the guild house after two days missing, and the other when she was told that she would be the Guild Master. The journey out of the Palace, first along the cold stone of the dungeons, then the warmth of golden halls, and finally the damp earth of the tunnel under the moat, was not the most enjoyable of Faric’s life. Usually he would have been thrilled to find out his Mother’s secret, this tunnel which had allowed for the legendary theft of the rings of office of no less than three high lords of Daggerfall in one night, made even more impressive by the fact they were wearing them in their sleep. This night however his thoughts constantly drifted back to the last week- his capture, trial, and then two days waiting for execution.

                The next morning Faric woke with a pounding head and a bad taste in his mouth. Memories of arriving back at the guild swam hazily into view, being cheered and told that his escape would be a stick in the eye for those who dared capture a guild member. When the free drinks began to be poured the recollection slowly faded, understandably considering the amount there had been. Sitting up seemed like a bad idea so instead he prayed to Nocturnal, asking for the ability to get revenge. Knowledge bloomed in his mind, knowledge of how he was only the latest in a series of pawns for the lords of the province, most of whom originated from the Guild, and all being used for their skill in deception and the shadows, used and then disposed of when they had done their job. There was a flash of dark fire across his vision and his hangover vanished in a blast of rage which settled into a steadily burning desire to take down these defilers of Nocturnal’s worshippers and domain.

Comments

1 Comment
  • Guy Corbett
    Guy Corbett   ·  February 25, 2013
    Nice the Die has been cast I like it. This should be a good story.