Oblivion short 3
Jan. 13th, 2007 01:47 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cmdr_zoomThag considered the waters of Niben Bay as they gently lapped against the gravel and sand at his feet. He could see the opposite shore on the horizon, many leagues away. His brow furrowed. While it was true that orcs were almost fearless, it was also true that very few of them could swim. Fortunately, he had another option.
He fished the copper amulet out of the tunic he wore under his armor, fingered it for a moment, then tucked it back inside. He'd used it before to cross shallow water, streams and pools... but this would be the real test.
Somewhere on the other side of the bay (more of a great lake, really, like Lake Rumare to the north) was his destination. To cross the mighty Niben River, he'd have to head north to the bridge that formed one link in the Red Ring Road that encircled the Imperial City, or all the way south to Leyawiin. Thag had thought of a more direct route, and like most orcs, once he got an idea in his head, it was hard to dislodge it. He was also fairly sure that no one had ever done this before. That made it irresistible.
Muttering a quick prayer to the Nine Divines and another to Lord Malacath, Thag strode boldly out onto the water. As usual, the surface dimpled and gave slightly under his weight, as if he was walking across an ordinary mattress, but did not swallow him. He kept his eyes fixed on the far shore for fifty paces, then stopped and looked down. The water here was too deep and murky to see bottom. As he watched, a curious fish swam up, nosed one of his boots, and then darted away.
With a bark of a laugh, Thag set out again. The deep waters of the bay were smooth as glass and he had no trouble keeping his balance. (He was not sure if the amulet's enchantment extended to his hands, if he should topple over, and not eager to find out.) His pace was brisk and steady.
The sun had been high in the sky when he began his journey. It was low and orange behind him by the time he approached the shore. He circled around a small island with a crumbling fort and made for another landmark, a small chapel set back about a hundred yards from the grassy bank, just short of the treeline. It looked like a good place to give thanks to the Divines, rest a while, and perhaps boast of his deed.
Thag wobbled a little as his feet touched land again; his legs had gotten used to the springy yet perfectly level surface of the bay. Grimacing, the orc marched up the steps leading from the beach to the chapel and threw the door wide open.
Whatever words he'd been about to say died on his lips. In an instant, some part of his mind took in every detail of the scene: the overturned pews, the blood splashed across the floor, the desecrated altar, the statues flanking it (one with its head struck off, the other missing its hands), the corpse hanging from the rafters, the other rotting body parts strewn about... and particularly the two startled necromancers, just beginning to turn at the sound of his entrance.
They died quickly. Much more quickly than the priest had, as Thag learned when he cut the body down.
Thag had seen death before; had caused, perhaps, more than his share of it. But this was something foul and unclean. His instincts and his faith both told him what must be done. He left the chapel and headed for the treeline, drawing the axe from his belt.
It took a few more hours to gather enough wood, but when the moons rose above the trees, they found the chapel fully ablaze. Thag watched for a while, listening to the windows shatter as the interior was cleansed by fire. Then he took his bearing from the island fort and the stars and headed off into the wilderness.
He fished the copper amulet out of the tunic he wore under his armor, fingered it for a moment, then tucked it back inside. He'd used it before to cross shallow water, streams and pools... but this would be the real test.
Somewhere on the other side of the bay (more of a great lake, really, like Lake Rumare to the north) was his destination. To cross the mighty Niben River, he'd have to head north to the bridge that formed one link in the Red Ring Road that encircled the Imperial City, or all the way south to Leyawiin. Thag had thought of a more direct route, and like most orcs, once he got an idea in his head, it was hard to dislodge it. He was also fairly sure that no one had ever done this before. That made it irresistible.
Muttering a quick prayer to the Nine Divines and another to Lord Malacath, Thag strode boldly out onto the water. As usual, the surface dimpled and gave slightly under his weight, as if he was walking across an ordinary mattress, but did not swallow him. He kept his eyes fixed on the far shore for fifty paces, then stopped and looked down. The water here was too deep and murky to see bottom. As he watched, a curious fish swam up, nosed one of his boots, and then darted away.
With a bark of a laugh, Thag set out again. The deep waters of the bay were smooth as glass and he had no trouble keeping his balance. (He was not sure if the amulet's enchantment extended to his hands, if he should topple over, and not eager to find out.) His pace was brisk and steady.
The sun had been high in the sky when he began his journey. It was low and orange behind him by the time he approached the shore. He circled around a small island with a crumbling fort and made for another landmark, a small chapel set back about a hundred yards from the grassy bank, just short of the treeline. It looked like a good place to give thanks to the Divines, rest a while, and perhaps boast of his deed.
Thag wobbled a little as his feet touched land again; his legs had gotten used to the springy yet perfectly level surface of the bay. Grimacing, the orc marched up the steps leading from the beach to the chapel and threw the door wide open.
Whatever words he'd been about to say died on his lips. In an instant, some part of his mind took in every detail of the scene: the overturned pews, the blood splashed across the floor, the desecrated altar, the statues flanking it (one with its head struck off, the other missing its hands), the corpse hanging from the rafters, the other rotting body parts strewn about... and particularly the two startled necromancers, just beginning to turn at the sound of his entrance.
They died quickly. Much more quickly than the priest had, as Thag learned when he cut the body down.
Thag had seen death before; had caused, perhaps, more than his share of it. But this was something foul and unclean. His instincts and his faith both told him what must be done. He left the chapel and headed for the treeline, drawing the axe from his belt.
It took a few more hours to gather enough wood, but when the moons rose above the trees, they found the chapel fully ablaze. Thag watched for a while, listening to the windows shatter as the interior was cleansed by fire. Then he took his bearing from the island fort and the stars and headed off into the wilderness.