Backstory

I wrote this a long time ago. Over 7 years ago now. I was asked to join a community of people who role played via text in a world / universe alongside The Elder Scrolls Universe. I wanted to play fast and loose so I created a hunter-assassin character and jumped into their world to have some fun.

Here is the post(s) as they were written over 7 years ago. Enjoy the read. Cheers!

The Story from the Posts

Forest – West of Shalgora

Freas stood quietly still on the branch of a tall tree in a dense forest section just west of Shalgora. The boar piglet he was tracking was just bout 12 meters ahead in a dense bush area under a short, decrepit tree. He had startled the piglet a few minutes ago by tossing some pebbles in its direction causing it to make a short, but audible squeal. He was hoping the mother would hear this and come to investigate, netting him a nice catch and some food for a few days. Any minute now. I can hear something coming from the left. Freas slowly draws one last breath and holds it. Along a boar path to his left approaches the mother of the piglet, unaware of the impending death lurking above its very head. Freas readies his footing, and prepares for the attack from above when a twig snaps off to the left alerting the boar and causing it to run off into the bush. Exhaling softly and drawing another breath, Freas climbs one branch higher into the tree and searches for the source of the sound. Drawing some weight down onto a branch with his left hand, he makes a clearing just large enough to peer through. Approaching to the left of the tree was two men, elvish in nature and dressed in citizen clothing, both carrying their days supplies in packs.

The taller man turns to the other man, who at the time was carrying a dagger and smirks. "These disguises are perfect, we'll fit right into the crowd."

"We'll check the map one last time, and then burn it. We cannot afford to leave such evidence behind, if not for the safety of the one who provided it." The man held the dagger in front of his face and said to himself, "This dagger thirsts for his blood, and tonight it shall drink its fill." Sheathing the dagger to his right side and covering it with his garb he points to the tree Freas is in. The other man nods.

Underneath him now, Freas peers down on two sitting men going over a, quite clearly, hastily drawn map. Several sections of the parchment covered by different floors and arrows in different colored ink describing the path to follow, times written down, and notes scribbled here and there. If only Freas could get a few feet closer, he could get a better look at the map and see what they're up to, but not at the risk of being caught in the tree. At that moment Freas noticed the grip of the dagger in its sheath, protruding out from under the mans garb. It couldn't be! This dagger... missing for 3 whole years. Not wasting one second, Freas reaches inside of his cloak and pulls out a curved short sword with a red blade, whose surface appears to have a liquid moving across it. He pricks his finger and allows blood to flow onto the blade, and then with great precision, Freas holds the blade downward above the grip of the dagger and a droplet falls. The blood droplet hits its mark on the pommel, and the men none the wiser. With that done, Freas was free to try and get a better look at the map. However, it was too late, the men had stood up and grabbed for their packs.

After setting fire to the parchment map, the two men hurried off into the forest south towards Daggerfall. Fools. All that talk about evidence and they forgot to check all the trees in the area for me before leaving the map still burning. Dropping out from the tree, Freas landed on the map effectively snuffing the fire. About one third of the map remained with charred parchment along one edge, just enough for something to be made of the original drawing. Problem was... none of the floor plans indicated on this map were familiar to Freas and according to one of the times written on the unburned section of the parchment, he had but to night to figure it out.

"Looks like I wont be eating any time soon, seems I'm heading to Daggerfall." Freas turned towards Daggerfall, the same direction the two men set toward. At their pace, they'd be there in a little over an hour. I'll be there in half that.

Licking the rest of the blood off of his finger, Freas sheathed his red blade under his cloak and set off towards Daggerfall.

Entrance of Daggerfall

Freas arrived in Daggerfall just as he supposed he would. The vibe of the town seemed as if nothing had happened quite yet, so it would seem he did in fact beat the two elvish men here. Not surprising.

Problem now was, Freas had to find out who was in charge of this town. The castle walls were visible in the near distance, a reasonable walk from the entrance of the town. Surely he couldn't just... walk into the castle unquestioned. Not to mention, his intentions were not to do harm in this case, but to prevent it. He must find the king of this town, and with much haste.

Passing through town Freas stopped momentarily to grab some bread from a nearby vendor, who was pleased at the receiving of such a generous tip. It's only money, thought Freas. He wouldn't even need money to survive if it wasn't for having to interact with people in towns on the rare occasion. Despite his hunger, he couldn't manage to finish the whole portion of bread he had bought, so he stuffed the rest of it under his cloak for later. More important matters overshadowed his own urge to assimilate nutrition.

"Halt, what is your business here at the Castle of Daggerfall?" asked the guard on the left with great boldness, holding his weapon out in front of the castle doors. The other guard places his hand on the hilt of his sword and stands tall.

Sliding his hood off of his head to reveal his whole head, and to hopefully show he means no threat to them, he calmly, but assertively says, "I must speak to the king! The matter may be of life and death."

"Has there been a threat to his life you have information on?", questioned the guard on the right. "This wouldn't be the first time, I assure you."

"My name is Freas Hawkstrain Masterhart, I hail from Alcaire. I must speak to the king, there isn't much time I assure you."

Court of Daggerfall

"Your majesty..?"

Gothryd slowly turned his gaze from the light that was seeping into the hall of his castle through the tall windows and instead focused on the man kneeling before him. For a brief moment disappointment showed on his face; this wasn't one of the people he would've preferred to see now, merely some or another noble of the sword, part of the pack of scavengers that could always be found in the court of Daggerfall, waiting for the right moment to besmirch someone's name with the hopes of gaining their lands.

Sad and pathetic. Does he bring news of someone's botch up or just seeks one or another kind of favour from his sovereign? As if half of them need my permission to do anything anymore. I'll be looking to change that soon... Perhaps Wayrest is not a very pleasing thought to me, but the kings of it do set a good example to follow. Absolute power...

"Yes, why do you disturb me?"

The noble shifted uncomfortably, a bit disturbed by the strange look the king was giving him. Nobles often found Gothryd uncomfortable to visit; he had a strange aura to him, perhaps caused by the suspicions of madness directed at the monarch.

"There is a man outside the gates who claims to have something important to share with your majesty. Shall the guards be told to chase him away..?"

Hmph. Another strange man... He's lucky I'm plagued by boredom so frequently.

"No, bring him in. But get a guard to keep a close look on him." Gothryd waved the noble away as he spoke, indicating that this audience was over and the king's patience had run thin. The noble couldn't help but feel a bit insulted that the kign so obviously considered him unimportant; of course he was rather unimportant, but his honour didn't permit him to admit it openly.

"Very well, your majesty. I shall inform the guards to bring him in."

Daggerfall – Castle Gates

Freas didn't have to wait long before one of the guards motioned for him to step forward. "Please reveal any and all weapons on your person," ordered one of the guards. Freas withdrew a hand into his cloak and pulled out a dagger, followed by another with his other hand. Daggers of a fine craft they may be, but nothing all too special it would seem. Freas had them smithed from ore he found himself, by an old bladesmith in the mountains hundreds of leagues from here, to his own likings. Freas placed these daggers onto a large red cloth the other guard was holding outstretched, "Two daggers," one guard called out, and then Freas retrieved the long-sword through a sized opening in the right side of his cloak. He crossed the blade over his other palm, and gently placed it down. "One sword," called the guard.

At this moment Freas was wondering what to do about his other two weapons, the short-swords with curved blades and a glistening of their blades surface, one of red, the other of blue. The effect was hard to describe... other than that of liquids rippling and pouring across their solid surfaces.

"Anything else?" one of the guards asked directly. Freas wasn't sure what to do, but the only thing he could to prevent the taking of these two weapons. It wasn't that he planned on using them, no, more less the fear of what may happen should someone such as these guards touch the weapons themselves. It may drive his mind into a dark corner, while his inner urges and desires are forced down paths he cannot control not having the training Freas has.

"I shall show you my other two weapons, but I shall let you know, taking them from me is but futile." Freas said this as assertively, yet non-hostile as he could possibly mutter using mere words. The guards face showed he wasn't sure how to react to such a comment. "Place them here or your entrance is denied," replied the guard firmly, relieved he found the right thing to say. He was relieved to see Freas comply by adding these two weapons to the pile. The guard holding the red outstretched cloth with the weapons upon its surface looked down at these two weapons and cocked his head to the left in curiosity at the sight of these weapons. "Two... short-swords. One blue, one red."

That is all I have aside from this here pouch I wear tethered around my waist. Freas lightly tapped his left hip above the cloak and said, "It contains mere survival supplies for ventures in the forest and abroad." The guard nodded to the other guard holding the weapons on the cloth, a signal to let Freas in. The guard holding the cloth wrapped it's ends neatly over the weapons, bundling them up and tucked the bundle under his right arm as they both escorted Freas into the castle.

Upon the arrival of the end of a long, well lit corridor, a large door and a nobleman stood before Freas, the two guards behind him. "I surely hope you're not wasting His Majesty's time," said the nobleman with a fair amount of smugness in his voice. The guard with the bundle of weapons says, "Your weapons can be retrieved from the armory when your audience with the king has concluded." The two guards stood at attention and saluted the nobleman, about-faced, and headed back down the corridor. The nobleman knocked once on the large door using a large-metal knocker, and slowly opened the door before Freas. Unsure of the reason for such a tone of voice, Freas entered into the large room.

Court of Daggerfall

Gothryd rose an eyebrow to the odd man that entered his court; obviously not someone used to being in a court of anyone, much less one of the greats of High Rock. If the king wasn't being subtle, however, then his court was certainly even less so. Looks of contempt or outright hostility followed this adventurer as he made his way through the hall. It wasn't very smart of him to say he was from Alcaire; that was a city (or rather town) under the king of Wayrest, and guests from Wayrest were never particularly welcome in the court of Daggerfall. This was further amplified by the fact this man had no political protection, so the courtiers had no need to hold back for fear of their king's displeasure.

"Yer majesty," The guard excorting Freas bowed, being unable to kneel because of his current duties - he held a spear tightly gripped in his right hand, having been instructed to keep a close eye on this strange unexpected guest. Though his weapons had been taken from him, there was no way to tell if this wasn't a mage of some sort, so there was no guarantee of safety. You could never be too careful when you were a king, as Gothryd had learned long ago, so a guard was there to quickly beat some sense into this 'Freas' if there was a need of that.

"'Tis be Freas Hawkstrain Masterhart, of Alcaire. Yer majesty was 'course informed he claimed having somethin' important to say." Gothryd nodded, at the same time looking at the guard with interest - his dialect wasn't Daggerfallian. A mercenary, of Jehanna perhaps? Strange they'd choose to depart from their lands when war with the Nords is at their doorstep. I suppose I should be glad they chose to depart, for I'd be a couple spears short now. And better from the middle of a war than from anywhere else when it comes to hired weapons. He didn;t know his army ery well, and foreigners tended to fascinate him - their customs were so weird, after all, even if they were merely from another part of High Rock.

"So I was. Well then." The king's voice, as usual, was melancholic. The boredom plaguing him was, oddly enough, getting worse by the day, despite the urgent state of affairs in High Rock, yet another thing contributing to the rumours. Let them think I'm mad. Perhaps they'll fear a mad king more. With a sigh, Gothryd straightened himself in his throne, at least attempting to fake interest. "Sir Masterhart, wasn't it..? Share your urgent message with the man you so sought to meet, if you will."

Court of Daggerfall

Freas wasn't accustomed to speaking with nobility, let alone kings. Couldn't etiquette wait at this moment? More pressing issues are to be dealt with, for sure. No time to worry about etiquette or manners.

"Please, call me Freas. I understand my presence here may be confusing, since my origin is from Alcaire. This is but a birth place for me, and a place I grew up in for a short while. I'm not here for any political means, or to bring you a message from the king of my region. I am but a mercenary on my spare time." Freas realized he was rambling, and decided to conclude the point of the tangent. "I place no interest in the political dabbling of people."
"Almost an hour ago, I was hunting boar in the forest north of here. I was not far from Shalgora actually. Two men, elvish in appearance and wearing citizens clothing, which they aptly called disguises, were moving through the bush. Unaware of my presence, they rested and studied a map of sorts. I couldn't make out much of this map from my location, but as they left they decided to set it aflame. They left in a hurry, towards Daggerfall, and as a result I managed to salvage a portion of this map."

Freas reached for the portion of the map he had on him, but the guard held out the arm with the spear and said firmly, "Careful, your in the presence of a king. I will not hesi..."

"I understand, I'm reaching for the map." Freas slowly motioned and withdrew the map from a location within his cloak. The guard, with his free hand reached out and received the parchment from Freas and stepped backwards waiting for the king to signal his desire to see this parchment.

Freas continued, "These two men had mentioned that they must destroy the map in order to prevent revealing who had drew it up for them. I believe it is of a building within this city, possibly even this castle. Unless you have a library, I don't see how any other buildings here could have so many floors." The king seemed to be growing impatient, but this was a mere guess. However... Freas needed to get to the point. "One of these men possesses something very important to me... to a friend. A very powerful dagger, not unlike my two short-swords. One of the men, who may have already arrived in Daggerfall, said that the dagger would be drinking the blood of someone, most likely in this city, and tonight at that."

Freas had more to say... especially about the dangers of anyone other than the original owner being the one to wield this dagger. However, it appeared as if it was time to let the king take in this new information, and interject his own thoughts.

FLASHBACK 1

Dense Forest - Location Unknown

The air was very humid, made even more obvious by the amount of dew forming on the leaves of the surrounding trees. Occasionally so much water would build up on a leaf, it would pool into one large droplet and crash to the ground. The result of this was many small streams of water flowing downhill into a larger stream and most likely out to the ocean somewhere. The two individuals, now standing on a series of well-crafted platforms and rope bridges suspended more than 40 feet above ground below the tree canopy, were surrounded by a blinding fog. Endless in appearance, you could slice the fog giving it a floating wound, only for it to fill itself in like a viscous honey.

One of the individuals, a young man, early teens, soaked head to toe stands silent in awe of the new surroundings before him. Constant pattering of water droplets from his clothes were the only sounds to be heard amongst the soft rustling of leaves. The surroundings, unlike anything he'd seen before, flashed into existence before him not but a few seconds ago.

"Where. . . are we?", the young one asked in a soft, hushed voice. Placing his hand firmly on his forehead and forcing the bulk of the water from his hair, he waits for the response.

The second individual is an older man, definitely an adult, and wearing clothing made from a fine cloth. His black hair was long enough to cover most of his forehead, and currently appeared very flat because his hair too was soaked. Over his clothing he's wearing a simple leather set of armour, fairly new in appearance. "Questions will have to wait, my current state places us in an unfavorable position. That is of course unless you know how to nullify extremely powerful magic. Do you?" The man looks at the young boy and smirks, knowing the answer is a 'no'. The man starts walking along the the rope-bridge nearby. "Try to keep up."

The young one quickly caught up behind the man, looking around into the dense fog he asks, "Excuse me... where are we going? Is this place dangerous?"

"We're going to my home, to where my people are," said the man briefly looking back over his shoulder to gauge the distance of the young man. "Yes, this place can be dangerous, if you don't know what you're doing. What place isn't dangerous anymore?" The man said this last sentence with a bit of heaviness in his voice, causing the young one to desire a change of subject.

"I don't know your name yet. Mine's Freas." Freas realized how undesirable it felt to be wearing soaked footwear while trying to navigate rope bridges in the trees.

"Name's Mateus Meroh. Both my parents were Imperials, and I have called this place my home for the better part of my entire adult life. I suspect you will come to like this place, as we all have." Mateus spoke each of these words with a fondness for them. He really meant what he was saying, there was no mistaking it.

"Will I ever be able to go home, to leave this place someday?" questioned Freas with a bit of fear in his voice. The man named Mateus left Freas with a fear that spoke of him never seeing his parents ever again. He didn't want them to worry about him... he didn't even tell them he was leaving...

"Yes Freas, you will be able to return home. . . as soon as you learn how to." This comment confused Freas. What did he mean, 'as soon as you learn how to'? What did Freas have to learn, and how long would it take? Too many questions were going through Freas' mind. "Are you willing to trust me Freas?"

"I am, but-"

"Good, then leave the rest to me for now," interjected Mateus stopping at a forked intersection in the rope-bridge path which ended in a solid platform built around the trunk of a very thick tree. "Wait here while I figure out which of these three paths to take."

Freas sat down, back against the tree trunk, resting his still wet feet. Mateus stood silently still on the platform, eyes closed, breath held. Freas stared at him and tried to guess at what was going on, and not wishing to disturb Mateus and what ever he was doing, Freas held his breath too without knowing why.

Court of Daggerfall

Gothryd was, frankly, surprised that the man went for him first and foremost. This hardly seemed like anything approaching the royal level in importance; people dying in Daggerfall, even from assassins' blades, hardly surprised the king or anyone in the city anymore. In a society as old as this city's, vendettas could be traced back to the First Era, and each side was more than willing to employ assassins and other such shady types. Of course, the guard tried to put a stop to it, but to get rid of feuds was nigh-impossible; by now it was an integral part of Daggerfall's society.

"I would not be so quick, sir Masterhart," The king had obviously chosen to ignore the man insisting to call him by his name. "In admitting hunting boars in the woods of Shalgora to the king of Daggerfall. The woods that are not owned by the lord of that land are few, and mostly owned by the nobility in such a case; and as you most likely know, the lord of Shalgora is a member of my court. However, I have more important business to attend to than unmasking poachers."

"I fail to see, however, why you would choose to come to me with such news unless you were hoping to secure a reward for it." That would hardly be something new in this court. If it isn't a monetary reward, it's a favour, or a position of some sort. You, however, will find none of that in this place, Alcairian. If he seeks a reward for discovering what may be a plot on the king's life he should've chosen Wayrest. I've been told the king there is far more paranoid; I would definitely not be surprised if that turned out to be the case. Odd; a man who is in constant danger worries little, while the one who has little to fear from that direction is ever-worried. "This would not be the first, and certainly not the last time someone plotted against my life; my castle guard is more than experienced when it comes to stopping assassins."

"One would have to be very well prepared and well funded, most likely backed by one of my rivals in High Rock as well to even have a chance at seeing the royal bedroom's doors. Regardless of their weaponry." Gothryd had no idea why the man had chosen to bother him by relaying half the history of this dagger; even if it was enchanted, it'd have to be capable of collapsing walls to warrant special mention. A weapon is, after all, only as good as the one who wields it.

Court of Daggerfall

Time was certainly not of the essence at this point of the conversation, if Freas could but communicate by pure thoughts to convey this message, it'd be sure that Gothryd would take this situation more seriously.

Freas' consciousness spoke to him, but in his mother's voice. When speaking to royalty, you must speak with specificity, confidence, respect, and most importantly. . . remain calm no matter what. Freas closed his eyes, took a deep breath, opened his eyes slowly, and breathed out. He could feel his whole body relax, followed by the feeling of goose-bumps across his back.

“Your Highness, I'm happy to state then that my attempt at hunting was interrupted by these two men, and I never succeeded in killing it. In order to show respect to this audience, I shall refrain from hunting in any regions owned by you or members of your court.” Freas looked momentarily to his right at the guard who was watching over his presence, and could see the look of amusement on his face at the king's annoyance with me. However this didn't bother Freas.

“I seek no reward from you, that is for sure. My concern is with this weapon the man possesses. Each of our weapons is named according to it's nature, and it's nature is a broad description of what it can do. This one's name is 'The Acquirer', for it can locate and obtain anything which exists and it sought after.
Clearly, the man wielding it is not powerful enough to control the weapon, but the person who gave it to him must have been very powerful, and must seek something within this city.”

Freas was trying to rationalize what the goal of these to men was, not that the one wielding the dagger had a choice in his actions. Something, other than the thirst for the blood the dagger desires must be sought after. Freas spoke the next thing that came to mind. “If it were a simple assassination this man was after, he certainly wouldn't have gone so far as to use this weapon. . . your Highness.” He's after something powerful, or something which can turn the tides to his favour.

“Sir, I suppose that these pawns have been sent here to steal something powerful, or valuable to this kingdom. The planed assassination of this man may just be a distraction, or to prolong the city guard being alarmed before these pawns can make it out of the city and into the forest at night.”

Freas stood upright, and silent now. He wasn't sure if the weight of this matter had yet blossomed within the king's mind, making his head feel heavy in thought. “Even if these men fail at their mission, and this dagger is to exchange hands to one of your guard, they would be pushed to finish the mission themselves when the time is right.”

Court of Daggerfall

Gothryd was, frankly, starting to get annoyed with this conversation. The way this man spoke, it could've seemed he was hiding a jar of magick in the basement that could turn the tide of a war. The only thing that came to mind when thinking about importance were ledgers and other such documents of an administratiorial value; for some reason he didn't think these people were after a couple of dusty books of an enormous size. The only other things someone would want to steal from me are either gold - which I have plenty of, these strange elves would have to have several carts to put a serious dent into the budget of Daggerfall, or ceremonial items that can be replaced by forged ones quite easily with the resources of a king.

"Sir Masterhart, it would appear our concerns are not the same. The worst these gentlemen could do to me with this most unusual dagger would be stealing ledgers or gold; I somehow doubt a dagger as you described would be used for such a mundane purpose. My family does not have any heirlooms of power reaching beyond ceremony, and I am no Emperor to hide away Elder Scrolls and amulets that can decide the world's fate in my vaults. Unless this dagger is capable of stealing my very own mind, I would be forced to believe you are warning the wrong person. Though I thank you for a warning about what might in fact be an attempt on my life, even if only a cover, I would suggest you seek someone whose interests are not as mundane as those of a king."

"Unless, of course, you have a more specific concern from out of my worldly possessions," Gothryd rose an eyebrow. If the man did refer to anything specific, it'd be most suspicious; it wasn't as if every Alcairian out there had a good idea about the possessions of the king of Daggerfall. "I would suggest you renew your search for the man threatened, sir Masterhart, as it is obvious your intentions are to try stop these elves. I can only wish you luck in that and ask if you have anything else to share with me, or would that be all."

I think I got a headache from all of this. I hate headaches... Sigh.

Court of Daggerfall

"I realize that this forewarning may seem rather strange, and I must be straight forward about this, but I'm not here to discover anything secret within the city."

Freas momentarily thought about the ways he could resolve this situation and yet still obtain the dagger. To Freas, it was more than important that this weapon not be allowed to be in the hands of anyone but someone within the order's union. It seemed however, that Gothryd was not going to take this matter seriously. Freas couldn't blame him only because he knew that Gothryd had no clue of the actual weight of the matter at hand. Another way had to be found in order to secure this weapon.

"Sir, then I apologize for disturbing you. It appears you can't conceive of anyone within Daggerfall who would be important enough to warrant an assassination involving this weapon, from an individual powerful enough to wield it and fight the control it delivers." Freas was struck with a great idea... something that just may ensure not only the king's safety this night, but the securing of this weapon too.
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask a favour. One I deeply hope you grant." Freas readied for his request, weary of the outcome. After a brief moment, he spoke, "May I spend a night in a guestroom within the castle?"

Freas waited in anticipation of the king's response. Every single second which passed seemed like eons, and every heartbeat which drummed in his chest seemed to be played by The Nine.
Court of Daggerfall

Gothryd sighed. Was this man going to keep troubling him, or would this be the end at last? His constant badgering had quickly gotten the king from bored to annoyed and his royal majesty was, by now, at the point where he would grant this man such an irrelevant, if odd, favour of staying in one of the guestrooms. If this was an elaborate scheme by a beggar to get a roof over his head, he'd have to congratulate him with an ingenious plan; if this was an assassination plot, this was a truly feeble attempt to get closer to the king. Whatever the case, he better bugger off when granted this; Wayrestians of all people should know that when a king's patience runs thin, heads tend to roll.

"Very well, sir Masterhart, you are welcome to stay in one of the guestrooms. Whenever you wish to settle in for the night, inform my guard; they shall escort you to your room. Obviously you shall be kept under a close watch; it is not customary for commoners to stay in the guestrooms, and everything that is out of the ordinary warrants watching." For whatever reason, it seemed that this was very important to the man; either he was a great actor or genuinely concerned with this strange dagger, if it even existed and this Freas wasn't simply crazy. This wouldn't have been that unusual; Gothryd had certainly seen stranger things than some weird wanderer managing to convince himself that he was pursuing some artefact of incredible power.

"Now, I have more important matters to attend to, sir Masterhart. This audience is over." Gothryd wasn't asking anymore; this was an order, plain and simple. And if the man would refuse to leave, there were people who dealt with his kind in Daggerfall's court. Waving the man away both to show him that the king wasn't being pleasant about it this time and to let the guard understand Freas was to leave the king's presence immediately, Gothryd turned instead to his manservant standing still by the throne and began instructing him what he would wish to be served for dinner.

Court of Daggerfall

Freas was relieved to hear the king's response which allowed Freas to spend a night in one of the guest rooms. It was important that Freas get to the room with haste, and inspect the room for any possible ways out that didn't include the door. Making too much noise wasn't on Freas' mind due to the training he received in T.O.A.O. Freas would have to outsmart the guards and escape from the room unnoticed, then attempt to find the room the map was leading them to. This wasn't going to be an easy task, not at all.

"Guard, please, if you will, escort me to the designated room I shall be staying in this night." Freas was now looking directly at the guard who was just holding a spear towards his face not but a few minutes ago. The guard nodded, bowed to the king, and signaled to the door we came in through by tipping his spear slightly. Freas bowed too, slightly, and took a couple steps backwards from the king before about-facing and heading to the door. The door opened as they approached, almost as if the person on the other end of the door knew to do so at that moment. Freas was escorted through several corridors, up a set of spiral stairs, down a long corridor to the other wing of the castle where a left turn was taken. The guard spoke as they approached the second door on the left.

Guest Quarters of Daggerfall Castle - West Wing, 2nd Floor

"Here is your room for the night," the guard said almost trying to sound like he was happy to escort Freas. "Should you need something, knock loudly on your door, and a guard shall assist you." Freas nodded slightly, broke eye contact with the guard, only for his eyes to fall upon the door handle. From the inside of the room the handle could be seen turning, and then the door opened, creaking audibly until it came to a stop, and then Freas closed it behind him while using a little downward pressure. The creaking sound was louder this time, and then click, the door was shut. Footsteps growing softer in sound ensured Freas that the guard was moving away, probably just around the corner. He knew the guards would be listening for sounds from his room, anything suspicious at that.

The room was neat and tidy, clean sheets and a lovely fragrance filled the room which emanated from the top of a night table left of the bed. An unlit lantern was situated on the night stand, that of which Freas moved towards, opened and lit using a basic fire spell. With more of the room now visible, he noticed a second lantern on the window ledge which he then also lit. Freas inspected the room for any oddities, any ways out, and found none. There was the window, but he would have to scale an impossibly small ledge to do so, and being unfamilar with the sound these windows make while opening, he wouldn't risk it. The door was now the only way out, and he knew he'd have to be quiet.

Freas knew he had to get his short sword with the red blade back, and he knew the only way to do so was to summon it back to him. This act would require more concentration than he was used to, but less magic power than summoning two of them. He could feel the presence of his blade displaced from his body, and this connected awareness was all he needed. Concentrating on the blade, he spoke a few words in his mind, and holding his right arm outstretched, the blade appeared in his hand. Simple. It was a good thing Freas placed this weapon last on the cloth the guard was holding outside the castle, or it's sudden disappearance from the pile would have made a noticeable sound, a sound which may have warranted investigation and resulting in an untimely check up on Freas. It's a good thing calling for these weapons is based solely on the experience and skill of the one it's connected with, or this take would have been impossible.

The next thing on Freas' mind was tracking the weapon he marked earlier in the day in the forest. The presence of Freas' blood on the dagger mixed with the magic from his own weapon would ensure the tracking of this item. He could feel it nearby, but not yet within the castle. The sun was mostly set over the horizon, and these two men would surely be executing their plan soon, as long as the time's he could read on the map were accurate.

Freas extinguished the flame of the lantern on the window ledge and dimmed the one near the bed to a dull glow, ensuring not enough light came from the room to distinguish movement. Moving silently towards the door and listening for anyone outside, he placed his hand on the handle, and directing pressure slightly up and towards the hinges of the door, he opened the door about twelve inches perfectly silently. Freas couldn't ensure it would open silently past this point, so he slipped out of the room, and using the same method he had before, he closed it. No one was in the hallway at the moment, and he couldn't hear any discernible footsteps so he continued down the hall away from the direction he came and turned right. This hallway was very dark in comparison to the one he was just in, and with his eyes already adjusted, he headed towards the next intersection up on the right. Stopping to peer around the corridor, he noticed two guards pass by at the other end of the hall. After they had passed he continued down the poorly lit corridor.

He could feel it now, the dagger was in the building. He couldn't exactly tell where, but the magical signal he was picking up was much stronger, possibly due to the fact it wasn't blocked by the outside castle walls. All he had to do now was find these men and get Mateus' dagger back, even if it meant using lethal force to do so. If they were taking dark corridors to get to the king, they would run out of corridors to take very, very quickly. Few men have the ability to move around unnoticed as Freas, and he intended to use this to his advantage.

A sound from behind Freas was suddenly heard, and he had but moments to find somewhere to hide himself. It sounded to be the guards Freas had seen earlier, now coming up the corridor he just passed. Freas ducked into a dark room, quietly closing the door behind him. Using the heaviness of their footsteps to gauge whether or not they had heard him, he waited.

Daggerfall Castle – Mid West Wing, 2nd Floor

Freas was sure the guards had not seen him, or heard him, despite the tendancy for the halls to carry sound. He felt his way along the wall to a bookshelf, or something of a dresser, and found his way beyond it. He gently moved past it to it's other side, sure to not make any sounds in the process. He waited, and the sounds of the guards steps drew nearer. If he were to be caught, here, now, in this room, t'would surely be the end of his all but small make of reputation in this area. He waited... held his breath, and the sound of foot steps drew quieter. He let go a sigh of relief in his mind, and as he relaxed up against the wall, a door to the room opened.

A small amount of light filled the room, and it was immediately apparent to Freas that the door which opened, was not in fact the one he entered through. Freas readied his red blade, the only weapon he had on him, and prepared for a fight. He hoped it would be quick, and leave him enough time to escape, for he wished no harm to anyone but those who sought the king. He had no affiliation with this king, but should he be harmed, Freas only though it would be his fault.

The door slowly opened, and two figures entered the room closing the door behind them quietly. Freas hugged the wall with his shoulders, blade drawn and ready to kill, and a lantern dimly lit the room. Two characters stood mere feet from the door they had entered, and then a voice was heard. "Is this the room the map specified?" said one man, holding the dimly lit lantern a fingers reach from his chin. "We made no wrong turns, this must be the room," replied the other, unsheathing a dagger from his waist. In was then that Freas became aware that the two men standing, unknowingly in the room with him, were the two men he had seen in the forest not but a few hours ago. "So now we wait, or what?" said the man holding the lantern, waiting for a cue from his companions face. It's now or never, thought Freas. With a bit of concentration, Freas concentrated on the small flame illuminating the lantern, and as the flame died out, the man wielding the dagger looked over his companions shoulder towards Freas.

"The bloody lantern went..." the man holding the lantern attempted to speak, as the man holding the dagger grabbed his right arm forcefully. "Did you see something over there, just then?" he asked with a harsh whisper. Freas had already made his way behind the man who had seen him moments ago, and with a small bit of concentration, re-lit the lantern. A moments confusion was all it took, the two men stared for a second back at the lantern, mildly confused as to what had caused it to relight itself, and the man holding the dagger was drilled over the head with the pommel of Freas' own weapon. The lantern went dim again, as the man standing looked where he was last standing, but Freas was no longer there, he was now to the left of the man as the lantern lit up again.

The lantern illuminated Freas left shoulder, and the man stepped back as he glimpsed Freas out of his peripheries, but Freas was ready for this as his hand already had retrieved a small bag of powder from his pouch. Freas crushed this bag in his hand, and threw the dust in the mans eyes as the lantern fell to the floor and went out yet again. With a swift roll, Freas was to the side of the first man that had fallen. He need not worry about the man who he momentarily blinded, for the pain the dust was wreaking under his eyelids was enough to take him out of the battle long enough for Freas to be done with the other man. The first man that had fallen was now getting up, but was met with unexpected pain as his left arm was twisted behind his back and was pinned to the ground. The other man began to scream out in pain as the dust in his eyes burned with great fury, and it was then Freas knew he hadn't much time.

"Tell me who sent you!" demanded Freas in a deep, near whisper tone, as he took the dagger from the hand behind the mans back. The dagger burned hot with magic, but Freas shut the pain out. "It doesn't mat...ter if I...I tell you, you...you're a dead man either way." said the man with a deep pain in his voice. Freas twisted the mans arm higher behind his back, dislocating his shoulder. The man grunted in pain, and his eyes began to water. "How'd you get this weapon?" demanded Freas in the same tone. Freas illuminated the lantern once more, from over his right shoulder, casting a devilish shadow over his face. It was then that Freas heard the call of guards from down the hall, and footsteps nearing the room. "All you need to know is that, that dagger... told us you'd be here in this very room, not but a day ago."

With the other man still screaming his head off in pain over the burning of his eyes, Freas knocked the man with the dislocated shoulder unconscious with a second blow from his weapon. The sound grew nearer, and time was not on Freas' side. Freas was momentarily reminded of the pain the other weapon was causing in his left hand, and sheathed in quickly. Concentrating fast, he summoned his other dagger from the armoury into his now scolded left hand. Holding both daggers across his chest, he uttered a few faint words and they began to glow. The lanterns light flickered. A blue and red light momentarily illuminated the whole of the room. The door opened. Guards entered, weapons drawn. The lantern's flame extinguished. Freas was not in the room.