[NSW-Fic] The Divine Crusader

[Jason Skywalker]

Chapter I : A Humble Beginning

 

I never would know what my role on this land was. I never would know how important to the sake of the humanity I would be. I would never know I would save Mundus. I never knew so many people would die because of my eager ignorance. And so, I begin telling you this tale. The tale, of The Divine Crusader…

*****

 

Zayne Skyblade, average Imperial male, of 22 years old, started another day on his average life. He woke up on his house on Skingrad, letting out his usual yawn. Getting up from his bed, he did his usual hygiene routine. Zayne then got dressed. His clothes where unique, ranger-like. They where black-coloured. His boots where leather-made, his trousers of unique Elven silk. He wore a dark vest to cover his upper body. Beneath it he wore a simple grey shirt. To cover his hands, Zayne wore black leather gauntlets, still showing about half of his fingers. Though, for difficult times, he hid four spikes over his knuckles. His dark vest also had a hood at the back of his head. Zayne put his hands on his pockets and with five moans, he got out of his house.

 

*****

 

Zayne proceeded to the local cantina he used to frequent a lot. Many of his neighbours ate there. Zayne sat down and soon after, a waitress came there to greet him.

 

“Good morning sir,” She politely told him, “What will you wish?”

 

“I’d just like a cup of coffee and a plate of sausages, eggs, rice and bacon please,” Zayne replied, bored.

 

The waitress then proceeded to take care of it. Meanwhile, Zayne grabbed the newspaper and started reading. Nothing appealed to him. All just political stuff. That bored his average day on his average life.

 

“Here’s your order Sire, “ She said, putting down a plate of his request meal and the cup of coffee.

 

“Thank you,” He said, handing out 20 gold coins, “Keep the change,” He immediately said before she could give him the change.

 

“Thank you Sire,” She said, then attending to other customers. Zayne started eating and drinking, still reading the news. When suddenly, a new didn’t just manage to make him spill his coffee. It read the following:

 

Dibella Massacred,

Anvil Chapel attacked and burned from the inside, everyone dead

 

Before yesterday, at about 7 hours and 39 minutes in the afternoon, an Anvil woman opened the chapel door as she then looked on at the horror. Everyone had been killed. The chapel was ruined and on the blood it read something unreadable. The authorities are investigating this case, wondering how they could not see someone that would do this large scale massacre. The Count and Countess of Anvil are worried, and have warned the other cities of a possible religious sect.

 

Zayne finished his meal and drink and proceeded to get out of the cantina and onto his house. Zayne opened one of his closets and inside where weapons. He locked his Elven Shortsword onto his belt and his quiver onto his back, followed by his bow. He pulled his hood up, and then proceeding to get out of his house. He got out of Skingrad, and got to the stables. There, he found his black Cheydinhal stallion – Tornac, and hopped on to him, riding to Anvil.

*****

 

About 3 hours later, Zayne had arrived. However, he felt tired, so he got a room at the Count’s Arms. About a couple of hours later, Zayne woke up. He got out and started asking, but no one knew nothing. Zayne noticed someone ranting about something, but he ignored it, as he headed for the chapel.

 

“I wouldn’t go on there unless on a pretty good – or empty- stomach. It takes a lot of guts to see it,” An unexpected guard said behind him, “We haven’t cleaned it up still. I’d advise you to only visit it when we’ve restored it, but it’s your call.”

 

“Say, how do I know more about the attack?” Zayne asked with a natural curiosity.

 

“You could try that prophet over there. He’s been rambling non-stop. Came here yesterday, a day after the attack,” The guard replied.

 

“Alright, thanks,” Zayne told him, heading to the pillar-supported platform. He could see the Prophet very clearly. He wore black sandals, and is robe looked battered and weathered, having a natural dusted brown colour. His skin tone was very much tanned, his hair white as the snow on Bruma and his eyes sapphire as the water of the Niben Bay.

 

“Uh, hello,” Zayne told him.

 

“Oh my. To what do I owe this honor? I am but a humble prophet. What business do you have with me?” The Prophet asked him.

 

“I’d like to know more about the Anvil Chapel attack, and you seem to know…” He said before being clearly interrupted by the Prophet.

 

“This is only the beginning! Umaril has returned, as foretold by Pelinal Whitestrake, in his dying breath!” The Prophet retorqued, surprising Zayne.

 

“Umaril? Who’s that?!” Zayne questioned, confused.

 

“Umaril the Unfeathered, the sorcerer-king of the Ayleids who ruled over this land for long ages before the rise of Men! He was cast down by Pelinal Whitestrake, but Umaril’s spirit survived, and now he has returned to seek vengeance upon the Gods…” The old man said with apparent trembling fear.

 

“Who is Pelinal Whitestrake?”

 

The Prophet sighed, “Does no one remember the old tales? Saint Pelinal, the Divine Crusader of legend – Alessia’s companion when she overthrew the rule of the Ayleid’s 3,000 years ago,” He took a deep breath, and continued, “Pelinal, with the aid of the Gods fought the Ayleid sorcerer-king Umaril, and slew him! But Umaril’s spirit survived, and he has now returned!”

 

“Well, I like to know history, but just tell me who attacked the chapel, please,” Zayne said, his eyes looking preoccupied. He could see this was a matter to be worried.

 

“Do you understand nothing?! The blood speaks! I can read the ancient runes, if you cannot!” The Prophet told the young swordsman, taking another deep breath, “As oiobala Umarile, Ehlnada racuvar”, in the Ayleid tongue. “By the eternal power of Umaril, the mortal Gods shall be cast down.” A curse upon Umaril’s ancient foes – and a threat,” He said with a sad face.

 

“So how do we stop Umaril?” The young swordsman asked, more interested in this.

 

“Alas. Umaril cannot be stopped. Not without the aid of the Gods. Not without The Crusader’s Relics. Without a champion, the Gods are powerless to act. But who among us is worthy to wield The Divine Crusader’s weaponry?!” He asked, seemingly furious.

 

Zayne took a deep breath, and then told him, “I will quest for the Relics.”

 

The Prophet gasped, then adding to it, “You would quest for the holy panoply of Pelinal Whitestrake? The legendary Relics that have been sought by mighty warriors, throughout the ages?!” He asked, still gasped.

 

He took another deep breath, and then, like Zayne, told him something for Zayne to gasp:

 

“Are you a worthy knight?”

 

Zayne sighed. He had never fought unless on the obligatory Legion training everyone should do for three days.

 

“No. I have no claim to fame.”

 

“Let the Gods be the judge of that,” He said with a smile on his face, “I cannot see into the men’s hearts. I see only their words and deeds.”

 

“How can I find The Relics?” Zayne asked The Prophet.

 

“The Gods grant insight to those they deem worthy. Why and how they act is not predictable. What I can tell you is that traditionally, knights who wished to quest for The Relics would walk The Pilgrim’s Way.”

 

“The Pilgrim’s Way?”

 

“Shush, let me finish. Travel to the Wayshrines of The Nine Divines. Pray to each of the Gods in turn, and ask their favour upon your quest. If the Gods deem you worthy, you will be granted a sign. Go forth with The Nine’s blessings,” He said, the smile on his face rapidly decreasing. It seemed he wasn’t a person to smile. But, who was, knowing these circumstances? He then handed Zayne a map, but the immediately continued the conversation.

 

“Well, tell me more about the Pilgrimage,” Zayne inquired with a smile on his face increasing. He also wasn’t a person to smile, not with the boringness on his life.

 

“For those who would repent of their past deeds, walking The Pilgrim’s Way is a traditional way to cleanse yourself before the Gods. Follow the map I gave you, visit the Wayshrines of the Nine, pray, and wait for a sign.”

 

“Well, I just want to know a little bit more about Umaril.”

 

“He was defeated, but not destroyed, by Pelinal The Crusader. Now he has returned to seek vengeance against the Gods. Only a true knight, wielding the holy Relics of The Divine Crusader, has a chance to defeat Umaril. Only with the relics of The Eight and One…”

 

Zayne was confused, “The Eight and One?”

 

“Once there where Eight Divines. Then Tiber Septim became Talos and The Eight became Nine. I follow the old way, of honouring The Eight while also giving due to Talos, The One who ascended.”

 

“Well, that is all I need, thank you humble Prophet,” Zayne told him as he started to walk away from there.

 

“May The Eight and One guide and bless your steps,” Zayne heard from behind him. He pulled his hood up and took out the map from his pocket. There where 9 Wayshrines in total. The closest one was Arkay’s.

 

And that would be his first step as a Pilgrim.

Stay tuned for Chapter II – The Pilgrim’s Way.

 

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Note: Knights of the Nine Fic.

 

I'm doing this while taking a break from Knights of the Force. Feel free to critic, constructively, and to give advices.

[CSI]

I'm not sure, is this based on the famous Crusades in Europe? However it's really good...And in that medieval times, there are many good stories that worth to be written here. Good job, Jason!

[Jason Skywalker]

Actually, it's based on the Oblivion expansion, Knights of the Nine. And thanks for the nice comments CSI.