Bab 435: Karakis' some heads
After Charlotte had scoured Riften for any traces of the enemy Champions, she left and got back on the road after hearing of a black armoured warrior that was harassing Stormcloak caravans heading to and from Windhelm.
She'd only faced a single Champion thus far, and so was wondering if she should have gone to Markarth in the first place... Hopefully, Clavicus Vile wouldn't be too dissatisfied with her failure... Or at least, enough so to prevent him from punishing her.
She continued along the road for a few hours, riding a horse she'd 'dishonourably' acquired from the Riften stables. On the way, she did encounter a few caravans, most of which looked unharmed, despite the rumours she'd been hearing.
Upon asking them, she found out that the only caravans being attacked were those that had large groups of guards and soldiers accompanying them. One caravan had even encountered the dreaded 'Black Bandit', as the person had begun to be called.
The rumours continue from there, some saying that the man was completely immune to any harm, arrows, spells, blades, and anything else you could think of would only bounce off of his black armour, doing almost nothing to him.
Her master had made her research Daedric artifacts in preparation for this 'Hunt', so she was quickly able to figure out just who was causing all of this trouble. The Champion of Boethiah, who was likely wearing the Ebony Mail.
From what she knew, and what she heard from the travellers on the road, the armour granted its wearing incredible protection, along with assisting them while sneaking and granting them the ability to passively harm nearby opponents without them even noticing.
From the tomes Clavicus got her to acquire, the Ebony Mail essentially poisoned anyone nearby the wearer. It was a slow, insidious killer, something that allowed the victims to remain unaware until they started vomiting sickly blood. If she was going to fight against such an artifact, she needed to figure out just how it worked, and create some countermeasures against it
Sure, she wore the Masque of Clavicus Vile, which should make any airborne poison useless against her, but that didn't mean she was safe. Plus, her injuries from the previous fight hadn't yet healed, leaving her at a distinct disadvantage should the Champion of Boethiah prove stronger than expected.
Then again, she couldn't flee or refuse to fight. Her soul was already bound, so any attempts at subterfuge or thoughts of betrayal would be readily apparent to her master. Even if he tasked her to kill a Dragon, or say, Michael, she'd have to do it regardless of her own feelings.
With her mood thoroughly soured at the thought of the despicable actions she had been forced to take, and would continue to take, she continues her journey to Windhelm.
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Karakis gives a vicious grin as he cuts down the last remaining Stormcloak soldier in the retinue. As a Nord himself, there was no greater honour than to fight other honourable warriors. This was something he simply couldn't find anywhere else, even the thought of fighting against those Imperial dogs in Solitude sickened him. There was no honour to be found there... But here? There was even the chance to face Ulfric Stormcloak, a war hero of great renown, with an even greater voice.
Sure, his loyalty to Boethiah was probably misplaced, especially with his current mindset, but you take the hand you're given... It wasn't like he could turn back now, the Ebony Mail had all but ruined his body, and any attempt to take it off would probably kill him... The poison it generated to kill his enemies had also affected him. He was unaware of this until the physical effects started cropping up...
Honestly, he looked like a sickly vampire, with snow-white pale skin and blackish green veins visible all over his body from where the poison had integrated itself with his blood. That wasn't the worst part of it however, that honour belonged to the fact that he couldn't turn off the poison the armour generated, causing anyone who got near him to slowly die...
This left him unable to enter towns, villages, or any kind of civilized society that didn't worship Boethiah, because of course the poison didn't affect her worshippers... All he had left now was to try and die honourably in battle in a vain attempt to enter Sovngarde. Hopefully, with great enough deeds Shor would tear him from Boethiah's grasp and grant him salvation... Even if he thought such an occurrence would be very unlikely.
He shakes his head to rid himself of the sombre emotions plaguing him and looks up, determined to go find the next group of soldiers to fight... Currently, he was right next to one of the bigger farms that helped feed Windhelm, it was only a few miles from the ancient city, so he planned to stay on this road for however long it took.
Fortunately, he wouldn't have to wait long for a battle...
In the distance a short robed figure walks toward him, a large black tome held under one arm while a staff was gripped in the other. "Hm? You must be the Squid-head's boy." he says with little respect for the prince they represent.
The robed figure lowers its hood, revealing itself to be a wood elf with completely black eyes. The Black Book seems to have already affected them to a large extent. Looks like his Ebony Mail wasn't the only double-edged artifact in play. Though, this thought brought little comfort.
"And you, Nord, under the vicious hermaphrodite. I wonder, do you give it or receive it? Ah, both then?" the wood elf mockingly states.
Karakis laughs, not at all upset by the insult, "You wish to talk about sex with me, milk-drinker? You look like your balls dropped the other way! And let's not get started with that, lest I remind you of who you serve. I'd rather take it up the arse than in every hole by Oblivion-damned tentacles!"
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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Bab 436: Laverius' Kinks
The wood elf sneers, ignoring his tentacle comment, "All this posturing, I too would be scared if I had to face me. I was born under the stars of the Ritual, taught the mysteries of magic as a child, and brought under the wing of my Lord, Hermaeus Mora, who has granted me more power and knowledge than you could ever grasp!" they exclaim and gesture at Karakis, continuing.
"And then there's you. A pitiful Nord welp who found themselves under the thrall of the very creature your ancestors despised and reviled! What would they think of you now? What would they do if they saw you as Boethiah's lapdog!?"
Karakis sniffs in derision, "Probably not good things. Nothing better than what your family would say, do they know old squid-head takes you up the arse? Does he make you read books to his as he does it?" he laughs before shaking his head, noticing that he'd come off the best during their little exchange. "Whatever, let's not lollygag any longer than we need to... I am Karakis, no name." he says with not a little bit of sadness at having to forgo his family name, "What is your name, elf. I'll need to know it for your gravestone... Unless you wish to be cremated? I don't know how elves deal with their dead." he shrugs noncommittally.
"I am Laverius of Arenthia, I would say it's an honour to fight you but, lying to your face before killing you doesn't sit well." he smarmily says.
Karakis hums, "well, at the very least you can banter better than your stick-up-the-arse brethren I've slaughtered until now." he shoots back, rolling his shoulder as he draws his weapon... A large ebony battle-axe. Sure, it was a completely offensive weapon, but when you wore the best armour in Tamriel, there was simply no better alternative.
Laverius nods and begins the fight by conjuring a storm of freezing ice in Karakis' direction... Only to frown when it does nothing to the man, aside from making his armour damp with moisture.
Karakis brushes some wayward ice from his shoulder before looking back at Laverius, "Is it my turn yet, boy?"
Laverius shrugs, readying the Black Book in his left hand, "If you wish to try."
Karakis grins, "Alright, ready yourself." he warns before taking a step forward, "WULD!" he shouts, causing his form to blitz forward a couple meters, causing Laverius' eyes to widen in surprise, the Nord wasn't yet upon him, but he was now far closer than he'd anticipated.
"Nice trick, but the weak voice of Kyne won't be enough!" he says as he thrusts the Black Book forwards, its pages splaying open as it reveals the contents of its texts to Karakis.
Abruptly, black tentacles explode from it, as if Laverius had just opened the gateway to a realm filled with nothing but tentacles and giant insidious sea monsters.
"See what I mean!?" Karakis exclaims as the tentacles force him to retreat backwards in order to avoid being grabbed. They scrape along the ground while steadily slithering towards him, Karakis brings his axe down on one of them, but cutting one short did little to stop the tie headed his way.
"Just give up and submit! Your armour, while powerful, is nothing in the face of Lord Hermaeus Mora!" Laverius shouts as he struggles to resist the pull of the Black Book. While it was a powerful offensive tool, he himself could find himself dragged into Apocrypha if he lost focus.
Unfortunately for Laverius, he hadn't noticed that the black tentacles sprouting from the Black Book were steadily slowing down, all affected by the poison generated by the Ebony Mail. This allowed Karakis to quickly chop at the slimy tendrils, eventually forcing them back into the Black Back, causing it to slam shut-in Laverius' hand.
"Not. Good. Enough. Milk-drinker!" Karakis roars as he charges forward again, his armour easily deflecting the few spells fired by Laverius.
The Bosmer was already a bit ragged, having the Black Book forced shut had given him some backlash, not enough to instantly lose the fight, but enough to make him wary of continuing it.
Shaking his head as he observed the charging Nord, he opens the Black Book again, though, this time he begins reciting a spell from the scrawling, crawling, and ever-moving words held within the pages. "Hkar, Lagarhk, Suilnoh, Nakei Twai!" he shouts, causing a huge black shadow to spread along the floor like a conjured swamp, the ground slumping slightly as a black fluid begins filling it.
Karakis movement was instantly restricted as the fluid turned rigid, like tar, then many huge black tentacles explode from the newly made swamp, not only that, but creatures from Apocrypha such as Seekers and Lurkers also emerge from the water, the creatures quickly surrounding a giddy-looking Karakis.
"These your friends? Must be lonely to resort to this sorry lot." the Nord remarks as he observes the disgusting creatures around him. "I'll do you a favour in sending them back to the shit-hole they came from!" he says as he begins hacking away at the Lovecraftian-looking creatures, his ebony axe tearing through their thick slimy skin, like a butcher's knife through boiled leather.
Laverius casts yet more spells, but they only prove to harm his own allies instead of Karakis, the Nord's Ebony Mail proving superior to any magic the Bosmer could possibly muster.
It doesn't take long for Karakis to cut a path through the creatures of Apocrypha, he shouts "WULD!" one last time, positioning himself next to Laverius and allowing the opportunity to get a strike it.
Laverius attempts to retreat but is forced to thrust the Black Book forwards defensively as he isn't able to cast a spell quick enough... Karakis axe knocks the book from Laverius' hand, and the next attack plants the weapon firmly in Laverius' skull, killing him and eliminating the Champion of Hermaeus Mora from the Hunt with finality.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
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