I am Ravyn Uvenim, formerly of the Great House Telvanni. Unlike many of my brethren, my skill lay not with the power of the mind and mastery of spells, but with the power of my arm and mastery of the sword, like our rivals of House Redoran. Due to this rather "unfortunate development", as my parents called it, I was sent to train alongside the seemingly uncouth (albeit rather altruistic) Redoran Guard, the greatest fighting force in all of Morrowind, if not all of Tamriel. I traveled all across the ash wastes, slaying monsters big and small that threatened the lives of Vvardenfell's citizens. I trained with sword and shield, dagger and bow. I developed my talent with utilising a sword in my main hand, and a dagger in my left. When my training was complete, I returned to my family and turned my mind inwards, towards the mysteries of magic that so fascinated my House. Though I knew I'd never be able to become a master wizard similar to the likes of master Neloth or Divayth Fyr, I did learn to channel my mental power into Conjuring a blade of pure power, using the soul of a lesser Daedra.
Though I did tend to prefer my steel or Elven blades, I found that this blade seemed to fit just a tiny bit better in my hand. As time went on, I developed a secondary talent,; the ability to Conjure two blades, one in each hand. With this new-found skill, I became something completely different, something my house rarely had a use for before; a Spellsword. It wasn't long before my skills were noticed by the Morag Tong and I was offered a position as an assassin. Needless to say, I was honoured, though I was conflicted. Many pious people commonly denote murder as wrong and immoral. But the Tong doesn't commit simple murder, we commit "legal" murder, complete with writs of execution (Though, I have to say, the money was very, very good indeed). In those days, I supplemented my skill with a blade with the art of stealth, becoming skilled enough to become something akin to the shadows I skulked within. I even learned to create something more suited to my new trade; a dagger this time, just as sharp as my swords, but twice as silent and even more well-suited to cutting the throats of my prey.
As the the days turned months, then to years, I found myself growing... discontent with my life within the Morag Tong. I found myself unable to commit to my jobs and end up refusing them altogether. It was then I decided to leave the Tong entirely. I traded in my guild armor for a familiar set of black armor; the armor I earned as a member of the Redoran Guard (Bonemold was never my style anyway. Plus, it doesn't bond well with powdered charcoal). As I did up the buckles of my gauntlets and boots and reached for my swords, the Grandmaster himself entered my room. Despite the many troubles I endured during the first few days of my apprenticeship, he was always quite patient with me, even when I stubbornly held to my training gained with the Guard. He informed me that he knew of my need to leave and said he would not stop me from doing so. As he spoke he reached into his robe and drew forth a rather forbidding-looking ebony broadsword and offered it to me, saying that, "Though I follow my own path, I should always be mindful of the steps I had yet to take."
The blade I had been given, was in fact the Grandmaster's own personal sword, the very same one he trained me with. It had fascinated me how often this blade had destroyed my own summoned blades. Due to my knowledge of spellcraft and enchanting, I finally discovered the sword's secret; a subtle banishing enchantment interwoven with a soul-trapping enchantment. Along with its powerful magic, I also learned its name; the Soul Reaver. It had originally been forged to combat the Sword-Singers of Yokuda in the First Era, astonishing fighters with the ability to create a blade with the power of their minds.
'Nother Skyrim short story for y'all to enjoy. Again, any honest constructive criticism is always appreciated.
Though I did tend to prefer my steel or Elven blades, I found that this blade seemed to fit just a tiny bit better in my hand. As time went on, I developed a secondary talent,; the ability to Conjure two blades, one in each hand. With this new-found skill, I became something completely different, something my house rarely had a use for before; a Spellsword. It wasn't long before my skills were noticed by the Morag Tong and I was offered a position as an assassin. Needless to say, I was honoured, though I was conflicted. Many pious people commonly denote murder as wrong and immoral. But the Tong doesn't commit simple murder, we commit "legal" murder, complete with writs of execution (Though, I have to say, the money was very, very good indeed). In those days, I supplemented my skill with a blade with the art of stealth, becoming skilled enough to become something akin to the shadows I skulked within. I even learned to create something more suited to my new trade; a dagger this time, just as sharp as my swords, but twice as silent and even more well-suited to cutting the throats of my prey.
As the the days turned months, then to years, I found myself growing... discontent with my life within the Morag Tong. I found myself unable to commit to my jobs and end up refusing them altogether. It was then I decided to leave the Tong entirely. I traded in my guild armor for a familiar set of black armor; the armor I earned as a member of the Redoran Guard (Bonemold was never my style anyway. Plus, it doesn't bond well with powdered charcoal). As I did up the buckles of my gauntlets and boots and reached for my swords, the Grandmaster himself entered my room. Despite the many troubles I endured during the first few days of my apprenticeship, he was always quite patient with me, even when I stubbornly held to my training gained with the Guard. He informed me that he knew of my need to leave and said he would not stop me from doing so. As he spoke he reached into his robe and drew forth a rather forbidding-looking ebony broadsword and offered it to me, saying that, "Though I follow my own path, I should always be mindful of the steps I had yet to take."
The blade I had been given, was in fact the Grandmaster's own personal sword, the very same one he trained me with. It had fascinated me how often this blade had destroyed my own summoned blades. Due to my knowledge of spellcraft and enchanting, I finally discovered the sword's secret; a subtle banishing enchantment interwoven with a soul-trapping enchantment. Along with its powerful magic, I also learned its name; the Soul Reaver. It had originally been forged to combat the Sword-Singers of Yokuda in the First Era, astonishing fighters with the ability to create a blade with the power of their minds.
'Nother Skyrim short story for y'all to enjoy. Again, any honest constructive criticism is always appreciated.
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