DREDHWEN .

[dredhwen .]

DREDHWEN .

DREDHWEN . DRED . 27 ON 2ND OF EVENING STAR . BOSMER . ASSASSIN & MOLAG BAL'S CHAMPION. NEUTRAL N/A N/A LESBIAN . N/A

[atrb=border,0,true] SKILLS & WEAPONS . Not many people know about my skills, simply because they die to quickly to really see my true power. Lately, my master has been sending me on these tedious errands that have been leaving me feeling bored and unsatisfied. So, for most of my victims lately, I have been working on a skill that I have not thought of working on in a very long time - two handed weaponry. I had managed to purchase a daedric warhammer as my primary two-handed weapon; costed me a fortune, too. Though, I'm sure my master highly approves of it, and that it truly all that matters to me. If my prey is a bit of a harder catch, I switch over to my main skill which is one handed - my master blessed me with he mace of Molag Bal; it's a magnificent and relentless weapon, one I enjoy using because of the way it make my prey look afterwards - hardly recognizable. Though, the mace is not the only weapon I use when I am one handed, oh no. I use a variety of different things when I am on the hunt; conjuration is a handy skill to have when you are in a bind and quickly need a companion to watch your back. though I much prefer the charge and attack way of fighting, there are times were I need to use quietness in my kills. It may not be my strongest skill, but sneaking is something I am quickly learning and becoming better at. It won't be long until I am nothing but a shadow whenever I sneak. ARMOR . There isn't a whole lot of armor that can satisfy my needs and my master agrees with me. I had tried the daedric armor and I felt as though almost anyone could have it, any champion. I am the champion on Molag Bal, I am in need of an armor that is worthy of him and his representation. I decided to make a custom armor, unlike anything anyone had seen before and I achieved it; now when my victims look upon me, they know me. They fear me. That is the main reason as why I do not shield my face, unless it is with a hood. If I am not on the hunt, people find me wearing casual clothes to blend in, usually clothes that I make myself. HISTORY . Some people will call my life a tragic tale, one that most people would shed a tear over or cry out in horror. But I am no fool, I know that my life has been blessed, become something that not many people are so lucky to have. Born in Skyrim, I was parented by a simple bosmer couple - they mined ore and sold good, the simple life. Well, on the outside at least. When all of the torches were put out and the guards were out for watch, my parents would go into our basement. Now, the houses in the reach are lavish and grand, which made it easy for my parents to set up a shrine in a room at the very end of the basement, hidden in the wall. No one knew it was there and my parents were very careful, but inside held a shrine. A shrine that would someday make my life complete, the shrine of Molag Bal. As I grew up, my parents kept my master away from me, afraid of my mouth spilling the secret that they had held for so long. Even still, I do not blame them for keeping him away from me for so long, it made meeting him just all that much more rewarding. There would be nights were I would hear my mother and father screaming and yelling though I had no idea if it were out of pain or pleasure. Now, older and more mature, as well as knowing the truth, I know it was for both. On my sixteenth birthday, my parents decided that it was time for me to meet the man of whom I would call my only. For he is everything I need in life. They took me to their shrine and, at first, I was frightened, terrified, even, as the daedric prince revealed himself to me in his form that is depicted in the sculptures around skyrim - half monkey, half snake and with horn atop of his head. My mother kept telling me to be afraid, that he fed off of fear and hatred. I can remember the urge to run away screaming, but I was too terrified to move. The first look I remember being my masters face was a pleased one, one that mere men showed when they have interest in a woman. It then turned devious, one that was much more fitting of a daedric prince and my heart skipped a beat in my chest. I will never forget my mother's words. "This is our daughter, our sacrifice." At the sound of those words, I turned to my mother with terror and confusion on my face. My master did not like having my back turned to him, so he grabbed me by the throat and pinned me against the wall. He told me that was going to be punished and that I was to behave until it was all over. I simply nodded, I couldn't do anything else. With a wet tongue he kissed me and with his hands he ravaged my body, gripping and scratching as he wished. I tried to reciprocate, but whenever I did he seemed to get more and more angry. Finally, he pulled away from me and threw me to the ground, smacking me and choking me. He told me that I would not enjoy what was coming to me and I was not to pretend that I liked it. Once again, I was too terrified to move. It was then that he ripped me of my clothes and turned me over. I screamed. This seemed to please him, seeing as he let out a chuckle of amusement. I tried to get away, only to have him chuckle more and pull me back to where I was. There was no way of escape, I knew that then and I know that now, but I still tried. Instead, he simply grabbed my hair and pulled me close to his face, his slandering and cold words only causing me more fear, more tears to fall down my face. Then he took me. I can still remember the pain that coursed through me as he pushed his way in, forcing me to lose my virginity. I cried and screamed and begged for my parents to help, but they just stood there and watched. My master kept my head in place, telling me to look at them, to feel ashamed of what was happening to me - raped in front of my own parents. As if it were all of my fault. I cried and wept and screamed and pulled, but it was no use. He smacked me and hit, threw me around as if I were some sort of unwanted doll. I did not wish to make him upset, but after a while it started to feel good - so good. I still screamed, I still cried, but they soon turned into cries of pleasure, screamed of wanting. It was odd, to see him become to angry with the fact that I was enjoying what he was doing to me and it was odd that I was in the first place. Finally, he released himself into me and pulled away. Grabbing me by the hair, he made me look into his eyes as he told me that I was one of the better sacrifices that had been given to him. Then, he left, disappeared into nothing. the instant he left, my parents ran to my side, telling me that I did so well and that they were proud of me. They told me that I was a blessing and that I was to become a worshiper of Molag Bal. I'll never forget the thoughts that ran through my head that day - I was going to murder my parents. It was my master's voice in my head, telling me to kill them. For the first few days, my parents kept me inside, telling people that I was ill and could not come out. For the first few nights I would stay awake, plotting my murderous scheme to eradicate my parents. It would take much longer for me to actually follow through with it. After a few more nights of staying awake, I finally let myself sleep, only to have the images of my rape running through my head, making me wet and wanting. I would touch myself and climax, trying to relive the way that my master had made me feel. Every time afterwards, I would feel the utmost shame upon myself. I would cry and scream, waking up my parents and having them rush to my side. I would always lie and say that it was just nightmares, even though it was the nightmares that made me sleep easier. The night had come, my master told me that it was time. I went to his shrine and looked upon the rusted old mace that had just been sitting there for years. It then came to life, losing it's rust and becoming a glossy black with a green glow. I watched with amazement as my master handed it to me, telling me to use it on my parents' skulls. Without hesitation, I walked up the stairs to their room, mace in hand. The aftermath was myself covered in blood, along with the floor and the bed pooled with with. I could feel the rush of adrenaline course through me as my master congratulated me, telling me I could keep the mace. He then revealed to me my singular purpose - I was to spread the word of Molag Bal. I had left Markarth that night, like a shadow. I changed my name, I don't even remember my birth given name anymore, just the name that my master gave me, Dredhwen. He had told me to find the dark brotherhood and I will admit it was difficult, but after my master had lead me to one of their targets, I had found just who I was looking for. I had told them that a son of Sithis sent me and that I was to kill the target, not them and, when I had, they were impressed. At first, living with the brotherhood was perfect, I got to kill the people. Of course, not many of them were of whom my master wished for me to kill, but his voice had gone quiet in my mind and I took it s a sign that he was pleased. I was wrong. After I had finished a target, my master revealed himself to me in the form of a mere man, not of the usual chimera of a monkey and a snake. At first I did not believe it was him, but once he grabbed me and looked right into my soul, I no longer doubted. He told me that I was to ignore the contracts and that Sithis had been the one to make his voice go quiet. I apologized profusely and begged him for forgiveness; he told me there was only one way i could make it up to him. He took me right there in the forest. After he had finished and got what he had come for, I was left bloodied and bruised on the ground. On my wrist was a cut that was shaped into the initial of MB. I still have it to this day. Once I had come back to the sanctuary, everyone had asked me about my target and I said that the deed was done, even though it wasn't. I handed them my share of the gold and went to my room for the rest of the night. Over the next few months of being with the brotherhood, I ignored Astrid and went off on a murdering spree of all of the people I didn't kill with under the control of Sithis. Eventually, Astrid had enough and told me to leave, I was to keep my life, only if I promised to never speak of being a part of the brotherhood. I understood and knew that they could easily end my life, if they wished. I never once doubted their abilities. I was now under the complete control of Molag Bal once again. My ventures started out small, killing beggars and the like, but as I grew older, I started going after people who I never expected. Witches and Vampires, political figures and noblemen. It was limitless when it comes down to it now. My master knows I will never back down from a fight and thus he challenges me, though lately he had been boring me. I am craving a challenge, something to really make me want to release.

CHARLIE .

NINETEEN .

NNE .

I AM THE ALMIGHTY ADMIN .

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