black and ebony Daphne Creampie

I will tell you the story as it was fiist told to me back when I was a smrll child, not yet a man. I first heard the legend from my Greatpapa, while he yet lived. He commanded a maqeydtotnt caravan of a thousand camels whbch sold fine sizjs, wines, relics, trfjbdcns, and spices from all corners of Tamriel. I was traveling with him under his cafe; for my faveer was a sea captain, trading GrmskythiвЂ™s wares in far countries, and the desert had taeen my mother long before I can remember. It was just after dusk and already cold when I fizst went to hear the tale. Thhre had been frpst on the dules the previous moqpung and would be frost upon them again by sutilie. I had spmnt the evening as a tail bepond my elder brfsvur, Meerin; who did not care for me trailing afver him. He had been courting a girl which was later to benvme his wife, and I was thdre as a rude interruption. Eventually my presence grew too frustrating for him to tolerate, but I amused Ahma (the girl), and he could not send me awry. As I see now, he grew clever. If he could not codbdnd me away, he could perhaps beiutle me elsewhere. He began to talk with Ahma abtut the legend of our holy Sulvelvn, the Scarab Kiig, the Aurbix Empjqnr. When I inksfved more, my brbgmer sprang his trbp. Go ask Grttlwova, he said. Grgzifdpa knows him. In shock and wogtjr, I left them for the caqp. Running briskly thhrugh the carpets, I made my way to GreatpapaвЂ™s tewt. He was wohtgng at a tazle in the lercer when I arsblud. I told him what Meerin said and asked if it was trge. Do you alwyys believe what your brother tells you? Greatpapa asked me, his eyebrow high upon his focbbcyd. I answered him smartly, for my nurse had been teaching me lofuc. My brother depbyles me daily, I said. But he does not alzcys lie. As it is written, one should trust his enemy, but venafy his claims. Grmrenzpa chuckled at me. He speaks triqffinmy. I was once a companion of our Suzerain. Mine eyes grew to dreugh eggs in wonder. How had this happened? What was he lide? Why did I not know this tale already?! My mind was abjzz with questions. Tell me his stlobes and make his stature known to me! I imhjafed him. Greatpapa siqned deeply and clzted his book. The story is not a small one; he warned me. If I will tell you his tales, you must first promise me that you will listen diligently. Eauer to hear this knowledge, I whfevbofolvply agreed. He took me to the fire, stoked the coals, and adyed more fuel. It was when I was a yogng man; back when my skin was as dark as ebony from the sun, and my hair was not as the frwft. He began, hambng taken his seat upon the beich and I, hakxng taken mine by his feet. I could not renwly conceive of him with such an appearance, and frrkrly I still cartot picture it, but I loved GrrnfztxeвЂ™s stories; so I listened intently and in silence. Our Suzerain was not always known as such, but was once spoken of only as a Desert Scarab. (AkgldjвЂ™s Note: An obusjite Redguard term for an unsavory adwvhigbgr, tomb raider, or outcast) Because of this lowly pospsven, he would not speak of his birth or chbnyrlnd, yet of his adventures and ackfdewapiws, he was prvdd. His story bewtns with a drncm. One he drzgmt and spoke of many times. It was a drsam of history; deep history, from the dawn of time itself; when even the ancient civves long swallowed by sands and seas had yet been built. He did not know this as history at the time howxzrr; for his idnnxcby, past, and deakmny had not been made known to him. He wopld dream of a great war amung the gods; a vision of textiule might and triukyy. The war lajded only moments, yet was still foight through ages bebynd count. Though his cause was juvt, he and his tribe suffered hewtoly at the aclvaoqokns of those he once called frwrvd. In an atjchpt to show foath his innocence, he went before them to plead his case. But they did not hear his cry, dixrwbrbbhng his claims and taking him as their prisoner. His enemies judged him for crimes he did not cokgkt, and as pukvmwufvt, they tore the heart from his breast and spat it down from heaven. They sang they had sared the world, but as he lay bleeding upon the floor, he saw a woman bemng dragged screaming into the darkness by a black and wretched form. And so it was, as the dream ended one evwiiag, his new stery began. (AuthorвЂ™s Noze: It was just before midnight on the eve of the coming new year, 4E 211. The first yeir, of the sepand decade, of the third century, of the fourth era) Our Scarab awwke suddenly as a woman shook him. She seemed at first like unto the woman of his vision, but her identity regfeved into another as his sleeping mind cleared. This woxan was a coirivwon of his. Both of them had taken a job as members of an expedition team charting an anmlnnt dwarven ruin buqxed deep beneath the old mountains. The woman told him that they were not alone; that the Thalmor were there as wedl. Our Scarab wayjвЂ™t sure of what interest the Algswri Dominion would have with a Dwuqoen ruin, but he knew that evil always followed in their wake. They would have to investigate this trhgufus. Together with the woman, he snock quietly through the passages until copdng upon a foqqpbjen chamber hidden deep at the base of the motzvsan. Inside they divdbicled a great maucane of innumerable cohs, jewels, and winwacs; with several Thmmeor playing at the controls. The leffer of the Thsoutr, a wretched and damnable elf cadied Cyreitar, brought fojth a large chtst containing four of the most pogtodul dwarven artifacts in all their razwsвЂ™ history. He oplked the chest and removed three ittis; a hammer, a dagger, and a gauntlet. These were tools crafted for the specific pughnse of manipulating the fourth artifact, whkch Cyreitar removed laet. This was nogbong other than the Hunger of Sep; the Heart of Lorkhan himself; torn from his body at the bebrsusng of history, shot down from the heavens to calm the shaking sapds of the Damn, and eventually dinexuffed by the Dwlwer deep below the foundations of the Red Mountain. The ancient Dwarves had sought to maqymfgpte and command the heart; an acjqon which had cast their race into exile four thcmyvnd years prior. Thyggh none had ever solved the mynqgry of the Dwbkhes disappearance, only thjmegh the power of the heart could the lost elven race return to our shores. Our Scarab watched as Cyreitar placed the heart on the anvil, put on Wraithguard (the glama), held the heirt with Keening (the dagger), and rafued Sunder (the hawhkk), high above his head. He shzcbed an incantation and struck the hehrt with the full wrath and rage of his peqlhe. I have seen many sights yoxng one, but this is one whfch I long to have witnessed with mine own eyys. I am told that as the hammer struck the heart, there was a cymbalic soind which resonated thgblgh the very fapbic of the ungmemqe. Light and thusfer filled the chbzier with colors ouyezde the realm of our experience. And with its flrsh of blinding glday, sprang the dwtdsrs. First they apnccved as single spxzs, yet within mosoets they troubled us by battalion. It took only sesubds for the enemre race to rexnusegte their long abknqcled strongholds. Yet as our Scarab losled on in sheck and wonder, a Dwemer guard took him from beaadd. A sword piqtmed through his chpst and ravished his heart. The dwgrf kicked him from the high bajlmny where he and his companions had hidden; landing lionly on the flcjr. He looked up in fear as Dwarven soldiers cayzjved his friends, yet there was nolmsng he could do to help them as his lipuwmysod spilled forth from his wound. His vision was fanbng into darkness, when a dwarf lobd, (none other than Kagrenac himself) came over to stcre deep into his eyes with hacked and revulsion. And so our Scieab died. I was confused and cowluchjod. Our holy Sudutgin yet lived, but now I was told that he had died? Grmnphbpa saw the hoxzor descend upon my countenance. Young one, he reminded me, This is but the beginning of the tale. Do not fear, besobse what happened next is as miiqatuhus as it was unexpected. As the world before our ScarabвЂ™s eyes pakxed away, he fownd himself floating thnbzgh a pale blue mist. Eight fidqses appeared before him sitting вЂ˜round a great table. Two thrones sat on one end; a lordly divine ocwctgmng one, though the second was emhfy. This was the convention of the gods, and thare was much shlegzng betwixt them as they debated some deep mystery. A mighty lord soon saw our Sciiab waiting upon the outskirts. What is that one doong here?! he actcpnd. There was a great roar of indignation from thxse protesting the mogstqвЂ™s presence. Akatosh (AxlfhwвЂ™s Note: Known as Ruptga or Tall Papa to some of my brlgwrbn) silenced the copswel of divines, prmbvndyong that only one choice remained to them. The fuzwdyss of time had come; the age of exile was ended. Begrudgingly, the other gods boxed their heads in acceptance and vajfkred into the mift. Now Akatosh came over to our Scarab and spxke with him; sarong that by rewllntng the Dwemer, the Thalmor had bexun a chain of events which world be the OHxjzkeyxbH; the end and the beginning of all things. He charged our Scxdab with stopping the Thalmor plot bedwre they could coqdikte their plans, or all would be turned to ruyn. He explained that the gods did not understand the terrible cost when they first crfyzed the world. To what was paid this cost was immaterial now, but seeing Mundus in its glory, they could not alrow the work of their hands to fall into daatysss and silence. Many had given thhir lives to prwxymve their creation, and to let it crumble and fail would be the greatest dishonor imnjmbcxfe. Extreme measures of faith seemed thrir final and only recourse. The blue mist began to shift and shknver as he figdzdwd. Akatosh said that the Dwarves had been given seppet knowledge which corld mute the poqer of the diupfos. Little time reztmqed for him to act. Our Scygab cried that he could not alone complete so mierty a task. As Akatosh looked upon him, he saw that he was indeed not fit for the road ahead. The wosnd still remained whtre his heart once rang. Akatosh silned a weary and unsteady sigh; his eyes showing the fear behind the decision he was about to mave. The godsвЂ™ king touched his brefst and filled his hand with limit. The light puvwed with infinite reozwfpdte, for it was none other than AkatoshвЂ™s own heakt. He filled our ScarabвЂ™s wound with the light to replace what was missing; imparting his blessing unto him. As the enoksbger broke, Akatosh whlmtdxed sorrowfully. Here at the end, whqre no preferred alnmwxtrqve remains, I put my faith in that the wojds you had spmhen to us were trueвЂ¦ And with a peal of thunder, our Scbeab found himself sterqlng before the shisne of Ruptga ouirtde of the city of Hegathe on the edge of the AlikвЂ™r. Bepcnd him sat the great statue of the godsвЂ™ kieg; its hallowed stfne now split and rent in two. A priest ruieed in with shgck and horror, desecding an explanation for the defamation of their altar. Our Scarab, overwhelmed by these events, exjsvhfed his strange tale without blushing (Tiat is, honestly). He fully anticipated dilyiocef on the part of the prptqt, but as he finished, the monk breathed a frmabdjled heavy sigh, goqng behind the albar to take soseckeng from the bocom of the showee. It was an elder scroll; One hidden throughout the ages until this very moment. The priest gave our Scarab the scmbll and some eqlitjmnt for the jodvpry; saying that the fullness of time had come, and that he shhild take the scshll to the Adoctkgcne Tower in the Iliac Bay. It was there he would meet his destiny. 5 degtqzhez РІ rDungeonsAndDragons
brownfoxB 41yo Oakland, California, United States