Prelude of the Dark Kingdom

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Two men walked into the tavern, with the first things on their mind being the satisfaction of their three basic needs. Four if you count the drinks. They knew the bartender there, such a fine splendor of a woman. The maid as well, with her gentle voice and innocent demeanor, had been a gift to the eyes of many who arrived for a good time. They had responded well to their previous advances so they felt the time was right to put their long-awaited celebration into motion; these two men, a Redguard and a Breton, were war veterans. After managing to put down an enemy base, they made off with some very important documents which could change the tide. They made fully certain to kill off everyone in the base, war prisoners included. They wanted none alive to tell the tale. And now they had returned to their favorite tavern to drink the night away in celebration. It was truly a welcoming feeling, seeing the maid greet them with such kindness. They sat at their usual table and requested the usual; a Colovian Brandy specially mixed with the bartender’s special blend that she has yet to reveal to anyone else, even the maid. It is part of why this particular tavern is famous around these parts.

                Oddly enough, the two men in their hearty nature had yet to notice the stranger at their seat. Was it perhaps because, since coming in, he had spoken very little and simply sat quietly at his seat, as if waiting for some event? It could be because he was just that good and remaining unnoticed. Either way, he did not go unnoticed for long. The two men happily offered a drink to the stranger, but were refused politely. They took to notice his odd and dark attire, and the mask he wore. It had but one eye hole for sight and was covered in intricate carvings. The metal seemed akin to Ebony, yet they were of no qualification to say so. If they weren’t in such a good mood, they may have even noticed the ominous air he exerted. Even the maid kept watch over him in anticipation. Whatever the man was, they simply shrugged it off and continued their drinking.

                About thirty or so minutes into their merrymaking and conversation and the stranger did not budge an inch. Every now and again he would look up to see the two men enjoying themselves and flirting with the maid. After a while, they began to show signs of extreme drunkenness. What was the oddest, however, was that they had barely finished half of the bottle. This fact was pointed out by the maid but dismissed by the Redguard, stating he didn’t feel all that tipsy. He had gotten a bad cough and a sickly feeling, though. The Breton, however, felt all too woozy and decided to get a bit of fresh air. He stumbled as he attempted to get up from his chair, but quickly found it was hard to maintain his balance. He eventually fell on the floor, throwing up the contents of his stomach rather quickly.

                The Redguard was the first to offer him up, warning him of his difficulty with alcohol. His face turned from one of laughter to one of shock as he noticed his friend had begun coughing up blood. He shook his friend frantically, asking for a response. When he found none he reached for his bag, looking for the Potions of Cure Poison they had raided from the base. But by the time he found one and returned to his friend he was too late; the Breton had died within moments. Feeling his own condition getting worse, he turned angrily to the bartender and drew his sword, accusing her of poisoning the both of them. She swore she had no intention, but the near-death man refused to listen. He walked slowly towards her, slightly weakened from the poison in his systems, as she backed away and continued to fearfully beg and plead her innocence.

                Suddenly the stranger appeared behind the Redguard, dagger in hand, and proceeded to slit his throat. The Redguard fell to the ground, clutching his throat to try to stop the bleeding, and looked up at the stranger. He died almost instantly. The bartender fell to the ground in fear, still shaking from what had just occurred. It took all her strength and consolation from the maid to get up again to thank the stranger. He had, however, not paid a bit of attention. Instead, he simply searched the Redguard’s possessions for what he had come for: The documents stolen from the base. Once he had what he needed, among any extra supplies he could salvage from the two men, he left, leaving the tavern shaken by the events that had unfolded within that sole minute.

                It really is a shame, however. The bartender had truly done nothing. No if anything you could blame her secret ingredients: Honey, Canis Root, and Ash Hopper Jelly. The concoction is actually rather tasty, so long as you don’t swap the Ash Hopper Jelly with ground Poison Bloom, which looks exactly the same if you put in some coloring in it using plenty of collected pollen from the Yellow Mountain Flower at just the right amount. She also needs to hide her ingredients in a better place besides in a chest under her bed. In truth, I suppose it’s difficult for most people to understand these two facts. It’s a good thing I’m not “most people”. And honestly, hearing those men boast about, their deaths have as much an impact as Ragnar the Red’s. Either way, with these documents I can rework the war in the opposite favor. The Imperials cannot be allowed to win this war so quickly.

                Placing the documents in my bag, I set out now to return it. Afterwards, I believe it will be time for a return trip. I have spent much time in the shadows, but now I must reclaim what I have created. The world will be in the hands of the Daedric Templars.

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