Yesterday was my birthday so here's my belated gift to all of you. The start of a new fanfic! (Wings of Light will be continued as well.) You may notice a shift of focus compared to my earlier fanfics.
Agent.
Chapter 1: In training.
My knees were shivering. For a good reason, I might say as the Duke towering over me looked very intimidating in his heavy suit of Ebony armour. Just to compare the two of us, the helmet would have been enough to crush me. Also, being dressed in cheap rags has never been a good source of courage. As it was, I had more than enough reasons to be afraid of him.
Who am I? I no longer use the name I was born with. I changed it upon my arrival here on Vvardenfell. Now I finally I have a name I can spell. Anyway, my name is Ro-El Frost. Sounds Khajiit? Maybe, but I am really closer related to the Nords, though without the muscles, the alcohol tolerance, the noise and without the size. Go figure.
The Duke turned to a man wearing some sort of golden armour. Probably the boss of the guard who was blocking the only way out of the room.
,,Is this the kid you were talking about?” The Duke asked with a stern voice. This did not sound well.
,,Yes, that’s the one.” Was the equally stern reply. This was one of those moments that your life would start to fly past your eyes.
How did I get here? Well, I don’t really know to be honest. People claim I must have been on the Skooma to have forgotten how I ever found myself in that mine. I didn’t like it there. The slavers forced me to do hard labour every day. I could feel my life slowly seep away with every single egg I harvested. I had to get out.
My plan took time but it worked in the end, except for one small detail. I harvested some poison one of the Kwama warriors had been spitting at the wall and mixed it with my food for the day. The day after that, I dumped it into the lake that was somehow inside the mine. The food had been swallowed by the Slaughterfish before I’d stepped away. The next part of my plan was the hardest. I’d been warned that the smell of their queen’s blood puts the Kwama into a killing frenzie. This information was meant so that the slaves were careful not to kill themselves, but it could also be used to my advantage.
So as you might guess, tapping blood from the queen is a potentially lethal act. Fortunately, I knew that by tapping just a little through a tiny wound made with my fingernail, the Kwama would not even notice. I carefully kept the blood sealed away inside a bottle till after four days, I’d finally collected enough. That night came the last part of my masterplan.
I managed to convince the slaves to go swimming in the lake, after showing them that the Slaughterfish had died through my act of poisoning. Next, I sprinkled the collected blood on the clothes of the slavers. I managed to get out to the lake before the killing started. I’d never been so glad that Kwama can’t swim. Those things were completely out of control. Which leads me to where I am now.
,,You have caused the death of three Dunmer and would have escaped if my Legionaires weren’t performing a raid at the same time.” The Duke spoke directly to me. Remember the little detail that went wrong? Well two dozen heavily armed soldiers who found a whole angry bunch of Kwama in their face, that’s what went wrong.
,,I thought they would run when the Kwama went mad. I didn’t expect them to die.” Was the weak defense I managed to whisper.
My arm was brusquely grabbed by the guard. The slave bracers I’d been forced to wear clattered on the floor.
,,Ro-El Frost, you have closed down an illegal egg mine and punished those who were responsible. You have further freed their prisoners who are being returned to their families as we speak. All that without harming the Kwama themselves, my men are responsible for that. As such, it is my pleasure as a servant of the great Emperor, Uriel Septim, to grant you your freedom and to take you into my service as an agent in the order of Ebonheart. Serius will escort you to your room.” The Duke now said with a smile and pointed at the guard who had released me from the symbol of slavery.
In a flash of inspiration, I snatched the bracers from the floor before I was dragged out of the room by Serius. We ascended many stairs before he finally threw open a wooden door and pushed me inside. ,,Consider everything in this room to be yours. You’ll be summoned tomorrow at 6 am. Wait inside your room till we come for you.” Serius ordered me before slamming the door shut. Not the nicest guy in the world.
I sat down on the bed and looked around, still unable to believe what had just happened. Instead of being branded as the bad guy and possibly executed, I had been turned into some sort of hero. Not exactly something that happened to me every day.
After I finally admitted to myself that things had turned out alright, I took a look around the room they’d given me. Apart from the bed, there was a closet, a mirror, a desk with several books on it and a sturdy wooden chest. It wasn’t big, but not small either. I opened the closet with the intention of swapping my dirty old rags with something more comfortable. It was cold this time of the year. The closet did not disappoint me. It was filled with all kinds of clothes ranging from simple but sturdy to downright extravagant and fit for a noble. There were shirts, pants, robes, shoes and even a few skirts, though I did not know what I was supposed to do with those. Men don’t wear skirts where I come from. Finally there were a few gloves on a separate rack.
I choose for a simple blue shirt with matching pants and a pair of shoes fit for indoor use. As the last action of the day, I picked up the book lying on top of the pile. ‘History of the Empire, part 1’ it said on the cover. If my idea of an agent was somewhat correct, these books had been placed here for a reason. I had some reading to do.
I would definately say we have a winner on our hands. Not to say I was doubting it at all. A wonderful start to a story I believe will soon become a huge success! Congrats Couldy!!!!!!
This is definitely a new style for you Jack. I'm liking it too. It's always great to see an author try something different with their writing.
Ro-El all ready seems like a very interesting character, and a very smart one. I'm curious to find out more. Please fill me in!!!
I've noticed that you've taken a first person approach to this story Jack, I've found first person to be a difficult point of view to write from but it seems like you've pulled it off well. I like the freshness of the characters here and the fact that the character seems to be an accidental hero as well.
Great start, continue soon.
I like it... There are certain things you can do in first person that are difficult in the third. And vice-versa, of course. Personally, I like switching between the two with some frequency.
I look forward to seeing more of this one.
I'm glad you like it. Yes, first person feels a bit harder though it can definitely be done. Just look at Trey, it's a masterpiece. I have to admit I actually started out here in first person. I have gone a full circle.
Now for the next update.
Next morning, I was awoken by the loud sound of someone banging on the door. Normally, I’m not much of a sleeper. I suppose this is my body’s way of telling me it was the best bed I’d ever slept in. Still, it seemed unlikely that whoever was banging on the door would just leave, not to mention I had my duty as an Agent, whatever that duty might be. Slightly panicked, I scrambled out of the bed and rushed to get dressed. In my haste, I accidentally switched shoes and I was still hopping around on one leg while trying to correct my mistake when the door was opened.
Serius said nothing about the laughable pose I was in. He just threw a loaf of bread in my arms and marched out again. ,,This is your breakfast, follow me.” He said with a commanding voice. I was beginning to wonder if Serius ever laughed or allowed himself to lighten up. Munching on the bread, I followed him, still struggling with my shoes.
Today I would learn about the untold shadows that hide behind the walls of every nobleman’s house, or castle in this case. Serius led me into a maze of tunnels used by the servants and us Agents. The entrance we used was masterfully disguised as a painting of a reddish mountain with dark clouds pouring out of its tip. I had no idea which mountain it was or even if it was real. My geographical knowledge was lousy at its best.
Serius led the way with a torch, leaving it up to me to decide whether to follow him or not. Naturally, I choose to follow him while doing my best to remember the route we took. Not only were the tunnels so dark that you couldn’t see a thing beyond the torch’s light, it was also completely featureless which made navigating a serious pain in the behind. We walked for what felt like hours before Serius finally stopped in front of a simple wooden door. By now, I had absolutely no idea just where we were.
,,Get inside.” Serius grunted and walked away.
I took a deep breath before opening the door. Beyond the door, I saw a large room lit by countless candles. Deep shadows penetrated those areas that were not lit up. It had a very creepy atmosphere.
,,Ah, you must be the new kid!” A Bosmer yelled as he leaped out of the shadows. I stumbled backwards in fright, tripped and ended up on my back. If I planned to make a good first impression, I’d failed miserably.
,,I’m Leroth, Duke Dren’s official spymaster. We can do everything the Blades can, only better!” The little man continued and helped me get back on my feet. To be honest, there wasn’t all that much of a size difference. My eyes were about as high as the tip of his ears.
,,Ro-El Frost. Nice to meet you.” I mumbled, feeling the blood rush up to my face.
Leroth was full of energy and he almost literally threw me on a stool.
,,Sit down, my young friend. You may call me master Leroth. I will be your commanding officer as well as your teacher. The Duke likes your improvising back in that mine so I have to turn you into a fine Agent if I don’t want to disappoint him. Now, where do we start?” He rambled on. I had no chance to interrupt him even if I knew something to say.
Still, he was a likeable fellow. A really likeable fellow. It was as if we’d been friends for years. I frowned at that thought. We’d only met a few seconds ago. How could I like someone that much after such a short time? It just felt odd.
,,Very good. Seeing the trap is the first step in avoiding it.” Leroth said with his cheerful voice. The odd feeling vanished just as sudden as it had came. Leroth had tested me, to see if I could notice when someone tampered with my minds. Just the fact that he considered this test necessary made me somewhat worry about my new profession.
,,Alright, Ro-El. First things first. The interrogation the Legionnaires put you through revealed some things, such as your age, your gender, your race and of course your name. What I do need to know are other things, skills, knowledge and your birthsign.” The Bosmer had rushed off to a second room I only just noticed. He came out a bit later with a big book and a quill.
,,I’ll write it all down. From the impression I’ve just received, you are not much of a talker and being a slave means you are unlikely to know much about economics either. So that means Speechcraft and Mercantile are in need of improvement. Next, you appear to be either clumsy or you just have bad luck. I’ll need some more observation to decide on that. You are intelligent enough to come up with overly complicated escape plans when needed, so I’ll put a plus next to your intelligence profile. That leaves us with the other things. Do you know on which day you were born?”
I was feeling dizzy from the rapid talking. It took a moment before I’d realized the question was directed at me. I shrugged.
,,I have no idea to be honest.” I muttered. Leroth noted it down in that big book of his.
,,In the field, such a slow answer could have been fatal. Pay attention.” And so the questioning continued.
Wow. Leroth is one hell of a talker. haha, poor guy is going to have to deal with his overly talkative Bosmer for a while and for that I feel sorry for him. Ro-El is going to have to develop quite a load of patience to be able to handle this but overall I can see that this will develop into yet another classic. Great job Cloudy.
It would seem that Leroth's strategy is to flood Ro-El's mind with so much information so fast that he has to learn to keep up. Not a bad strategy for teaching quickness of mind. Let's hope that it works.
I'm still very curious about the gruff, almost abrasive mannerism of Serius. Perhaps he holds some kind of grudge against agents in general? I do hope we'll find out.
The encounter with Leroth was rather interesting and even a bit humorous as well.
I like the way you described the class selection...the way you used a rambling spymaster to get this information from the character was well done and made the class selection almost un-noticable. Not to mention the fact that you managed to keep from having to write his name, age, and gender by saying the legion officers had already found that out in the interrogation.
Amazing work here mate, keep it up.
Yay, Jack! You´re doing excellent!, Now first person really has its advantages, it´s much easier to involve emotions and feelings...keep it coming ya hear!
You're definitely weaving this story really nicely, with some great characterizations with the Bosmer and Serius. Not to mention Ro-El himself. Continue please!
Ahh. So Jacky has joined the ranks of the First Person Epicy tale tellers!
Nice work so far,....I'll be watching your progress,....from the shadows,....for I am the shadows...
***Stumbles over a coat rack on the way out***
Stupid shadows! Cant see a thing!
....ow....
Yikes Black, watch out for those coat racks! They can be a thorn in your side for sure...* Quietly mumbles curse words to his own coat rack*
It does seem as though more and more people are wandering to the dark side, the first person side. Like Minque said it does have its ups and downs for sure but I think we will all agree that Jack has taken to it like a prodigy!
Need a light, Hand? I love fireballs.
Now enjoy the update. It's a short one.
I put the book away. Leroth looked at me expectantly.
,,And, what is your impression of this book?” He asked me.
,,Propaganda. Don’t try to beat Helseth as he is the best schemer in the world. Geez, is that all necessary?” I complained. My head felt as if someone crammed the whole castle in it. When Leroth spoke, his voice was quieter, more serious.
,,It’s called politics. You have to be mean. Nice kids are death. The profession you’ve chosen is not a safe one, Ro-El Frost. Once in, you can’t get out. It’s as if you dove headfirst into a deep pool. The danger you’ll face will not be as blunt as the bandits the Legionnaires fight against. No, your danger will be subtle, a hand behind the curtain, a dagger in the hand, poison on the dagger’s blade. It will kill you, without you knowing it was ever there. Don’t expect it to play by the rules. There are no rules. Now go, this was enough for today.”
I looked at the book’s cover before leaving. A game at diner. If this was the game, I did not want to be a part of it. Yet, as Leroth said, I had no choice. The only option I had was to learn how to play this game. My mind was in turmoil as I navigated the dark maze. A light appeared beyond the corner.
My feet stopped. I realized that no one should be this close to Leroth’s hideout. Unless it was Serius. And I had the distinct belief that Serius would stay away from here if he could help it. Who would be here now? Whatever his reason was, I did not want to know. I turned around and ran, leaving my own torch behind.
Without any light, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I ran straight into a wall. I came to a noisy and painful stop, on the floor. There was the sound of rushing air, nearly silent footsteps coming closer. I felt the sharp blade of a dagger being pressed against my throat.
,,My writ is not on you. Don’t interfere.” The assassin’s voice hissed in my ear. I closed my eyes, wishing that it would end.
When the assassin left, I remained where I was. I just lied on the ground, crying. I was so frightened that he would come back to kill me. Right now, I would have done everything to be back in that mine, harvesting eggs till my body broke down. My body was fine and healthier than ever, yet my soul had been shattered in one swift blow. Eventually, I passed out from exhaustion, the adrenaline and shock having taken their toll.
Uh oh, I sense we're going to be down a Bosmer by the next update! Poor guy.
Life doesn't seem to be getting any easier for Ro-El. I have a feeling he's going to need to learn how to operate in politics rather quickly as well. I wish him luck.
I stared at the ceiling without seeing a thing. I was not made for this life. Danger, lies and death lurking in the shadows were not my idea of pleasant activities. I sighed. It wasn’t just me who was living that life. Leroth, Dren, even Serius were all involved. Especially Dren, who had to play the game both in the open and behind the curtains. I tried to imagine how it would be, to fear every meal in case it had been poisoned. To go to bed, wondering if you would wake up to see the next day. To judge every man, woman and child before you, hoping that they weren’t an assassin hiding behind an innocent face. No, then those who kept low and seemingly outside the whole matter had the better deal.
I forced myself to get out of the bed. I did not know who brought me to my room, so I had no idea what happened after I passed out. Now, I was determined to find out. Leroth deserved that much. He’d been the closest thing to a friend here. Serius was always cold and distant while the duke, he was too busy to talk. I would find the Bosmer and if he was death, I would make sure he received a proper burial. I hoped this wouldn’t be needed though I feared the worst.
Through the last few days, I’d learned a lot from the talkative Bosmer. Most importantly, I’d learned to recognize tiny scratches on the wall that allowed me to know where I was inside the dark tunnels. I stormed through, my fingers stroking against the cold stone, slowing down only when I had to pass a servant. As I went in deeper, the amount of traffic dropped rapidly. Soon, I was all alone, deep underneath the ground.
The plain wooden door looked as if nothing ever happened. It had no right to look as if nothing happened. I threw it open and marched into the room without even bothering to check if it was safe. The room looked just like when I left. A game at diner was still lying on the table. The disastrous results of my Alchemy experiments still bubbled and sizzled angrily. The Imperial shortsword was still stabbed into the training dummy’s heart. The only sign of what had happened was the large pool of dry blood at my feet.
For a moment, I’d lost all hope. Then, I finally noticed what I should have noticed right away. Someone was snoring. I grinned. My fears had been completely useless. Leroth was sleeping in his bed. There wasn’t a problem at all.
The Bosmer opened one eye.
,,Oh, hi Ro-El. Nice to see you. I was wondering if you’d show up today. Eh, I’m afraid that I need to stay in the bed for a few days. So I’ve been thinking.” He whispered. I leaned in closer so I could hear what he was saying. It was then that I noticed the bandage covering his throat. The assassin had come close, very close to finishing his job.
,,The duke wanted to send me to Ald-Rhun. Something about Sarethi being a murderer. Athyn Sarethi is an influential member of the Redoran council. This could cause a large shift in the balance of power. So, could you go in my place and find out what is going on? I’ve prepared a package for you to take. It’s on the table. Now, goodnight.” Leroth fell asleep almost instantly.
With nothing better to do, I picked up the package. It contained only a few documents and a pouch filled with a small fortune. I read the first document. It was a publicly available guide to Ald-Rhun. Then, I had a small list of inhabitants and whatever we knew about them. Finally, there was a note regarding the shipping of goods right here in Ebonheart. The last note got me.
Leroth didn’t plan to send me to Ald-Rhun at all. He’d simply given in to my constant complaints and presented an easy way out, including the money to start a new life. I crumpled the last document and burned it with a candle. I would no longer back out of things. Whether Leroth had wanted me to do this or not, I was going to Ald-Rhun.
No one saw me leave that night. No one would see me return until I’d found out about the truth.
You're still doing well Jack, keep it up!
*hears Black Hand's comment......... and sticks foot out to trip him* Newsflash: Dark Naryyn can see in the dark and actually become shadow......
"Stop tripping on that coat rack Blacky, or your going to die before you kill Dagon, ROFL!!!!
You're just mad cuz you're godlike character cant fight mine in....clash of the titans!! (Dun-dun-dun-da-da-duuuuun!)
Sethyas can see in the dark, I cant. And it sounds like Ro-El is learning to feel his way in the dark. nice work Jack, keep it up!
Glad to see our Bosmer buddy survived, though by a hairlength it seems.
It'll be interesting to see how Ro-El applys his new found abilities in Agenteering (a patented word by The Metal Mallet, thank you).
Maybe Ian would like to meet this new prodigy........ and give him some advise.
Update time! A longer one.
I arrived two days later, amidst a raging storm. Shielding my face with an arm, I stumbled into the first building I came upon. I wiped the ash out of my eyes before I could view my surroundings. Two people, an Argonian and a Breton, watched me silently. Judging by their robes and the scrolls lying on a nearby table, I had found the local mage guild.
,,Ash storm. Mind if I stick around till it calms down?” I asked. The howling of the wind against the giant crabshell provided the truth behind my words.
The Breton motioned towards the table.
,,No problem at all. It isn’t the first time a blown away traveller comes by. Vvardenfell is known for Ebony, Kwama eggs and the nastiest weather in the Empire. Take a seat.”
As we sat down, the Breton poured some flin into two cups. The Argonian went back to his studies.
,,So, traveller. Where are you from? Any good rumours lately?” The Breton inquired. I took a short sip from the flin before answering.
,,Pelagiad. Nothing much, just a few cases of the flu. What about here?” I replied. The Pelagiad bit was not entirely a lie. I had passed the small town during my journey and there had indeed been a few cases of the flu.
,,I suppose you’ll hear soon enough. Strange things have been happening. They say that Morvayn’s house is overrun by monsters, though no one is willing to tell more about it. And then our Archmaster now claims that young Sarethi is a murderer. Of his best friend on top of all things! Those two were always seen around, getting into trouble. I can’t believe it.”
I kept the rest of the conversation on the idle chit-chat level. What little I’d learned about the murder was interesting. After our drink, I got to tour the hall. While interesting, there wasn’t anything for me to do here except buy a few scrolls. I knew nothing of Magicka and learning would take time, too much time. I had no doubt that I was already being searched back at Ebonheart. I would have to finish my business here as soon as possible.
The storm had ceased. I stepped outside of the hall where I took out my guide to Ald’Rhun. There was a mention of the Rat-in-the-Pot cornerclub. No place was better for getting supposedly secret information than the shadiest place in town. No place was better for getting into trouble.
In the club, I stuck to the side, keeping out of conversations and away from any drunks. The trick here was eavesdropping while enjoying a good drink, which I did.
,,Hey kid, are you interested in some merchandise?” I looked up to see a Dunmer with extremely bad breath look down on me. His eyes sat deep within their sockets, his mouth revealed rotten teeth and several disgusting boils sat on his face. His eyes were even redder than was normal for his race. I wondered what kind of disease caused this.
,,No thank you. I don’t need anything.” I said in an attempt to make him lose interest and go away. Instead, he gripped me by the shoulder. There was much more strength in his hands than I expected.
,,Come on. I tell you, it is all the rage among you Redorans. Everyone wants one. You don’t want to look like a kid without any money, do you?” He insisted.
,,If I buy something, then I’ll become the kid without any money. Now what makes you think that I’m a Redoran?” I asked him with a somewhat tense tone in my voice. Instantly, the Dunmer let go of my shoulder.
,,Oh, sorry. It’s the clothes, you see. I’m sorry for having wasted your time. Well, I must be going.” The man mumbled and shuffled away. I could barely fight back a grin as I took a scrap of paper out of my pocket.
I’d noticed how he was constantly checking his pocket. When he had been distracted by gripping my shoulder, I slipped a hand into the pocket and retrieved the little scrap of paper. I finished my drink and left the tavern before he could notice he had lost something. Outside, I took a look at my prize. His suspicious behaviour made me think that it would be more than just his Ash yam recipe.
Here is another crate of statues. These are to be placed here in Ald'ruhn. Place the statues quickly and wisely. Destroy this note. Do not disappoint me again.
Hanarai
I whistled silently. Looks like I hid the jackpot at suspicious dealings. I had the distinct feeling that something was up with those statues. If it wasn’t because they had to be placed, the strange behaviour of the seller or the fact that the previous load had been disappointing, it was the bit where my Dunmer friend was told to destroy the note. Notes were only destroyed when they had served their purpose or they contained words that shouldn’t be shown to just anyone. I suspected the latter.
A quick look at my own information revealed the existence of a female Dunmer going by the name of Hanarai Assutlanipal. I decided to pay the lady a quick visit.
I knocked politely on the door and waited for it to open.
,,Just a moment!” I heard a quick shuffling inside. Now this was suspicious. I calmed my mind as I waited. After a full ten minutes, the door finally opened. Wary eyes glared at me.
,,What do you want, Outlander?” Hanarai spat at me, emphasizing the word ‘Outlander’. I smiled as I made a little bow.
,,Oh, I ran into your associate a while ago. He was willing to sell me some most interesting merchandise but alas, his supply had run out. He told me to see you for you would certainly still have a statue.” I spoke with a quick tongue. In the meantime, I managed to sneak a quick glance into the house behind her back.
It was a bit dusty. I could see two pairs of footprints. One pair obviously belonged to Hanarai while the other belonged to something bigger, something inhuman.
,,I don’t sell to Outlanders.” She shouted before slamming the door shut in my face. I stood there, thinking if that disease both Dunmers were suffering from was contagious. Right now, I was convinced I was dealing with something big. Hanarai got extremely agitated the moment I mentioned the statue. I had no solid proof, yet my master had told me that in some cases, an Agent had to rely on instinct. My instinct was screaming to take a closer look.
I made sure no one was watching before jumping on top of a nearby cart. From there, I could reach the roof and climb up onto the chimney. I hid out of the view of any passing people.
,,I praise you, oh great lord. Soon, Ald-Rhun shall be in your grasp, a bastion from which we can purify the lands of those who deny you. Even at this moment, I have spread our agents into the Redoran council. Sarethi and Venim manor have fallen under your spell. Those who would not fall, Morvayn and that young Dunmer who always hung around Sarethi manor have been removed by your men. Have faith, for the Sixth House shall rise from the ashes.” Hanarai was apparently saying some sort of prayer inside her home.
I counted the facts down with my fingers.
One, I was dealing with some sort of fanatic rambling about a Sixth House. Two, Ald-Rhun was slowly being conquered from within through treachery and foul play. Three, Sarethi had fallen under a spell and the young Dunmer hanging around Sarethi manor was likely Varvur’s late friend. Conclusion, I had definitely hit the jackpot here. What would follow was taking action against the bad guys, or bad woman in this particular case. The only fact I forgot to take into account was the rumour about monsters invading Morvayn manor. I also forgot about the big footprints I'd seen.
The chimney was not only a good tool for eavesdropping, it was also a good entrance for when the door was locked. I dropped down, landing in the fireplace softly. Fortunately, there was no fire burning. A quick look on the upper floor revealed that Hanarai had ventured down the stairs. I followed, without a sound. The door was open and I would never forget the horror I faced beyond.
Hanarai was not alone. Her little chapel was filled by a hulking mass of flesh. Upon seeing me, it gave a loud grunt and limped up the stairs towards me. Hanarai also turned around.
,,You again! You have seen that which you shouldn’t have seen. Now die!”
Both the monster and the Dunmer woman came up to meet me. I withdrew my hands into my sleeves, pulling out two steel throwing stars. I lobbed the first at Hanarai’s knee and the second went straight for the thing’s face. The woman fell down as the star penetrated yet the creature didn’t even seem to notice the sharp bit of metal sticking into its flesh. I cursed loudly as I realized the trouble I was in.
It swung slowly at me with a massive arm. I ducked under the blow and then kicked at its leg. Pain shot up my own leg in return. This thing had some really hard skin. It swung its arm back, forcing me to jump back, up against the wall. When it brought back its arm for a third swing, I pushed off against the wall and soared up into the air. My boot came into firm contact with its face which snapped back with a satisfying crack of shattered bone. Pleased with the knowledge that nothing could survive a broken neck and a nose in the brains, I landed behind its back and moved to arrest Hanarai.
The woman had pulled herself up from the floor again and now brandished a digger gleaming with venom. ,,You will never get me! Now die!” She shouted again. I rushed forward and knocked the dagger out of her hands with my fist while my foot connected with the still healthy knee. With both knees officially ruined, she was helpless.
,,Now can’t we calm down and solve this peacefully? Hanarai Assutlanipal, You are hereby placed under arrest according to the authority granted to me by the Duke of Ebonheart. You can come along quietly or you can make me knock you out. Your choice.” I spoke with a calm but stern voice.
A shadow fell over me.
,,Aw, crap.” I muttered as I spun around and drove my fist against the tough skin of the thing. It was still alive, somehow.
,,Zombie, why did it had to be a zombie?” My train of thought never finished. Something sharp stabbed me from behind and all went black.
Interesting chapter... I wonder how Ro-El will get out of this mess?
Ack! The dreaded cliffhanger! How I despise you and you leaving me here on the brink of hysteria!
Consciousness slowly ebbed back to me. The first impressions I received were that of a moving floor and some serious pain in my back. I recollected my wits and kept still as I assessed my physical situation. My arms were tied behind my back, I was gagged and wounded, not good. Fortunately, the wound wasn’t too serious. If it had been, I wouldn’t be lying there thinking about it. Still, I’d better figure out something before I was disposed off, permanently.
Some more listening further revealed aspects of my problem. I was on a cart, dragged forward by a Guar. The zombie was walking along and my not so pleasant host was in control of the vehicle. I carefully opened my eyes. That was when I finally got some good news. Apparently my scrolls had been seen as too expensive to throw away. When you are in big trouble, use anything you can. That could be my motto.
I slowly shuffled closer to the stack of scrolls till I could reach it with my fingers. I snatched one of the stack and examined the ink with my fingertips. Bingo, one firestorm spell at my disposal. If I could get rid of the gag, that was. That problem would have to be solved in the simpliest way possible.
I brought myself back into a helpless looking situation, hiding the scroll underneath me. I then delivered some inventive curses which were all muffled by the gag. That was okay, I was only trying to get Hanarai’s attention. It worked, as expected.
The Dunmer looked at me as if I was mud under her shoe. She then removed the gag.
,,What’s the matter, N’Wah? Want to beg for your life?” She sneered. I simply grinned and aimed my back at the zombie.
,,Not really, I’ve just been dying to try out one of these. COME FORTH, FLAMES OF OBLIVION!”
I wasn’t in the position to observe the results directly, though the sound of the explosion and the fire lighting up the entire area gave me an idea. Simply, I liked it. As a really convenient side-effect, the oversized fireball had also burned through my ropes before smashing into the zombie. I sprang up and threw the woman off the cart. Looking around, I saw only ash where the zombie remained. Not bad for a scrap of paper with enchanted ink.
This time I systematically made sure I’d broken all of her limbs before tying her up and putting her back on the cart. I took the reins and made the Guar turn around.
,,I believe we need to discuss the finer points about taking prisoners. For one thing, make sure they don’t get any tools with which to escape or blow up the guards.” I told her smugly with the scrolls now on my lap, safely out of reach. Though it wasn’t likely for her to do anything with her body ruined like that.
,,You killed him!” Hanarai snapped at me. I frowned.
,,Technically, I didn’t kill anything. Zombies, or Bonewalkers as you call them, are already death. You can’t kill something that’s already death.” I replied. The utter hate on her face made me check if she was properly incapacitated once more.
,,That was not a zombie. It was a man, blessed by our lord with his divine powers.” She spoke with a fanatic zeal.
,,Blessing, it looked more like a curse to me. Now shut up, you can talk all you like when I drag you in front of the Redoran council on the charges of murder and undermining society.”
We arrived in the middle of the night. Needless to say, the Redoran guards were less than pleased with allowing me and my cargo inside the city. A few quick words convinced them that I was no problem and they even gave me directions to the council.
I opened the door and practically threw Hanarai inside. The Redoran council members sat before me and eyed me with more than just a little bit of suspicion.
,,What’s this? Why do you interrupt our meeting?” One of them finally spoke. I nodded at the man.
,,Miner Arobar I presume? I would like to borrow some of your time regarding an investigation I’ve conducted as ordered by Vedam Dren, Duke of Ebonheart. Mind if I hold a little interrogation with the suspect?” I answered politely. Arobar looked towards the man at the head of the table who, after a long wait, gave a short nod.
,,Just make it quick, Outlander.” The man said sternly. Again with the Outlander thing. Really, I was wondering if there was a real difference here between the bad people and the good people. If they all behaved the same, then what was I trying to do?
,,Thank you, Archmaster. You are much too kind.” I answered instead of voicing my real opinion concerning his manners. Some flattery always worked with these stuck-up people. I pulled out one of my scrolls and turned to Hanarai.
,,Hanarai Assutlanipal, you are hereby charged with the following. Murder and placing the blame of said murder on Varvur Sarethi.” The table creaked as one of the council men tensed up and stared at us with a hint of anger crossing his face. ,,The containment of an unnatural and destructive creature under your home for the purpose of causing chaos and destruction throughout Ald-Rhun. The attack on Morvayn manor with the aid of said creature. The plotting of a political overthrow of this city through treachery and deceit. The illegal spreading of decorative objects that are believed to have a negative influence of some sort. Finally, any charges that may come apparent at a later date.” The only woman on the council had burst into tears. I instantly knew she was the widow and only survivor of the attack on Morvayn manor. On the inside, I felt sorry for bringing up bad memories but I had a duty to fulfil here.
I rose the scroll in front of my face.
,,I have a simple question to ask. You will answer with the truth.” I informed the Dunmer. My eyes took in the Daedric runes written on the scroll.
,,YOUR BODY, YOUR SOUL BELONGS TO ME!” A green haze enveloped her. The words I used to invoke the scroll of commanding left a bad taste in my mouth. Nevertheless, I leaned in closer as I fired my single and most important question.
,,Are you guilty?”
We could see her battle the effects of the scroll.
,,Yeeeee……NO, I’M NOT!” The sudden outburst caught me by surprise. I was convinced I would get a confession right now. I glanced at the scroll in my hands.
,,The effect lasts only five seconds, figures.” I noted with a grim expression.
Still, she had almost confessed before breaking free from the scroll. As such, the councilmembers were now in hot debate. I couldn’t quite follow it. Both Athyn Sarethi and Brara Morvayn insisted on interrogating Hanarai further, seeing as how they were personally involved, namely Athyn’s son and Brara’s husband. Finally, they seemed to reach a decision. Or rather, the Archmaster reached a decision.
,,You have a lot to explain, Outlander. How dare you mistreat an innocent woman like that? Truly you barbarians from the Empire know nothing about the rights of the Dunmer.” Ok, that was the wrong answer.
The door was slammed open before either the Archmaster or I could go into a debate. We all watched to see who the newcomer was. The first thing I noticed was that the man was a Redguard, a bit short for a Redguard but still a Redguard. The second thing I noticed was the power of Magicka his equipment radiated, especially his Cuirass and the Claymore on his back. The third and final thing I noticed was the man’s spirit. He showed all signs of containing a power that was unlike anything found on Nirn. Who was this man really? The only beings I’d felt who showed similar spiritual power were the Daedra though this man’s spirit was much stronger than that. We all felt it, even those who were otherwise completely unconnected to Magicka.
The Redguard displayed a smug grin.
,,Sorry I’m late, there was this Cliffracer flying around your crab so I just had to chop it up.” He joked. His face then grew darker as he saw Hanarai sitting on the floor.
,,You smell like the Corprus. What did he promise you? Power, immortality? Well, what did he promise you?” He asked her. His presence was most threatening and I had to stop my hands from shaking even though I wasn’t the one who had to face his wrath. To my surprise, Hanarai merely laughed.
,,The same things he promised you, lord Nerevar. Why do you deny your lord? Why do you fight him? He will come and all that is not his, shall be destroyed. Just like the Morvayn’s, the Sarethis and all of Vvardenfell, all that denies him shall be destroyed. Even your beloved Telvanni shall not survive. So why fight, when you can join him?” She yelled at the Redguard’s face. I must’ve looked really dumb. The only Nerevar I knew was a death Dunmer in the history books.
,,If your god is even half as powerful as you all claim he is, then why does it take so long for him to take over the world? Why do you deny me? I’m going to kick your silly Dagoth Ur’s behind and everything that is his, shall get a severe headache! Now take that disgusting wreck away.” The man known as Nerevar spoke, his last words meant for the guards. To my further surprise, none of the Redorans complained.
The Archmaster looked at me. His hate for Outlanders was apparent. Behind me, Nerevar put a hand on my shoulder.
,,Don’t worry about that old drunkard. If he tries anything funny, I’ve got you covered.” He whispered in my ear. I gave a barely noticeable nod to show I’d heard him.
,,Very well, Outlander. It appears that you have found the source behind the trouble that plagues our city. A delusional source that is evidently addicted to Skooma. You may leave.” The Archmaster said.
I did but before the doors closed behind me, I could hear how the next matter of their meeting was discussed.
,,Now, you aim for the title of Hortator?” I decided that as soon I got back in Ebonheart, I would ask Leroth what a Hortator was. My hand closed upon the letter that explained the results of my investigation. I just hoped that my little escapade would be forgiven.
Lucky Ro-El was captured by a Dunmer who was overconfident. Those types are good to take advantage of.
Nice update! I knew I was suspecting a cameo sooner or later
Man-oh-man is Ro-El a crafty sort! I loved the update and it is true. You cannot kill what is already dead...but is sure is fun to try!
Congrats on a wonderful update Jack. Very well done!
Hmm, debriefings seem to be ahrd to write. Nothing fun ever happens.
Oh well, enjoy the update.
Once again, it took two days to travel. Two days of doing nothing but enjoying the weather. Ebonheart looked just as when I’d left it, the castle simply towering over everything else. Well, nearly everything else. Vivec’s cantons were much bigger. No one tried to stop me as I made my way to the entrance, for which I was grateful. I’d probably have a lot of explaining to do.
I’d barely set foot inside the castle when someone grabbed me by the neck.
,,There you are. What have you been doing?!” Serius growled. Ok, now I was getting nervous. An angry Serius was a bad thing.
,,Business. I’ve investigated a certain matter in Ald’rhun.” I replied as calm as I could. Serius let me go.
,,Business? I don’t think you know the meaning of the word, kid.” He sneered before walking away, leaving me to rub my sore neck.
,,Ro-El! There you are!” I looked up and saw Leroth. In the few days I’d been gone, he’d gone through a remarkable recovery. He began to drag me over towards the council chambers.
,,Why did you come back?” He whispered into my ear.
,,Trouble was brewing and someone had to deal with it. In this case, me. I suppose we’re getting a debriefing now?”
As I’d already guessed, I was brought into the Duke’s bedroom for a meeting with the man. Today, he was wearing some comfortable clothing instead of his armour. As he said, Ebony was good for intimidating people but it really itched.
,,So, Ro-El Frost. I hear you’ve conducted a private investigation?” He asked me, with a considerably warmer voice than during our first meeting. Apparently, it wasn’t only his attire that changed in a private environment.
I gave him the letter which told him everything he would like to know, and more.
,,There had been a rumour that Varvur Sarethi has been responsible for the murder on his best friend. Varvur’s father, Athyn Sarethi, is an important member of the Redoran council. The embarrassment and political leverage his enemies could gain on him through this event would cause a shift in the balance of power on the Redoran council. My investigation lead me to the one who was really responsible for this murder.”
I paused for a moment to take a deep breath. Leroth nodded me to continue.
,, Hanarai Assutlanipal, a Dunmer resident of Ald’rhun, has instead influenced Varvur through the means of a curse similar to the Command Humanoid spell. This spell was bound to a peculiar kind of red statue which she and her accomplice spread through Ald’rhun. Both have been sentenced to execution. Now, Hanarai apparently also kept a shrine in her house dedicated to the so called Sixth House, whatever that means. I couldn’t find out much about this Sixth House, except that its influence spreads throughout Vvardenfell. It also has the use of Bonewalker-like creatures. I’d like to investigate this Sixth house further.”
The Debriefing took the better part of three hours. After the Duke had finally heard enough, Leroth and I were dismissed. We then went over to my room where we sat down to discuss a few things regarding my training. Basically, Leroth thought I was ready for the simple jobs. If Ald’rhun was supposed to be simple, then what were the hard jobs? I pushed that thought to an empty corner of my mind. I had other things to think about.
,,Leroth, what is an Hortator?”
Leroth looked at me with that funny expression he always wore when he was surprised.
,,Hortator? Well, a Hortator is a warleader of sorts, a general. He leads the houses in war. The Hortator is the only authority, not counting King Helseth or the Tribunal, who may command the houses. Frankly, with all that political scheming, all the Hortators have died within a week. The only one who lasted longer was Nerevar Indoril himself, the Tiber Septim in Dunmer culture. Why do you want to know?” He explained.
,,I met a Redguard there. At least, he looked like a Redguard. His spirit was something completely different. Heck, I’m not even sure if he was even mortal. He wanted to be given the title of Hortator.” I fell silent as I remembered something Hanarai had said.
,,Hold on, that Dunmer, Hanarai Assutlanipal, she called him lord Nerevar. So the first Nerevar was a Hortator, now there’s a Redguard with an unique spirit who is called Nerevar. What’s going on here? I’m so confused.” I muttered and shook my head.
Leroth sighed.
,,Understandably. I believe I know the man you are speaking of. Luper Alkad, the Redguard. He’s quite an interesting person, I might say. Released from an Imperial prison and then brought into the Emperor’s private spy organization, the Blades. He has been part of the mage guild but was expelled after some unknown mistake he made. After that, he joined House Telvanni and has since risen at an unbelievable pace. In fact, he now holds the rank of Arch-magister. Finally, there are rumours of him being called Nerevarine. Nerevar reborn. Quite an interesting man, quite a dangerous man. Stay away from him, Ro-El. We are not in the position to take action. We lack both the information and the manpower. Telvanni are not to be taken lightly, especially a Telvanni of a non-magical race who has taken the highest rank in just a few months.” He told me with that serious tone he’d used when warning me of the dangers involved with my profession.
,,You look tired, go get some sleep.” With those words, the Bosmer left.
I lied down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Nerevar reborn, Hortator, the Sixth House. How where they all connected? And just what was this Luper Alkad? A Redguard, a reincarnated Chimer hero? Or something else? With every answer I found, two more questions seemed to appear.
Wow! What an amazing update. I have to say I didn't think this story would involve Luper at all but lo-and-behold his name is mentioned. When I read those last few paragraphs I got goosebumps. Great work as always my friend. Keep it up and keep us wanting more!!
Looks like Ro-El didn't have too rough of a homecoming of sorts. But now it seems the situation is thickening.... It'll be interesting to see where this story goes next. I can't wait!
No update yet, sorry. I just wanted to say that with the exception of one, all my fanfics include Luper at one point or another. Only this time, he's degraded to a background character. I'm not trying to retell Oasis here, even though it takes place in the same timeperiod.
Mmm It would be a shame to not have Luper in the story at all. I am going to be crushed when I finally retire Taillus. It was just refreshing to see Luper's name mentioned seeing that he himself is not yet retired.
Nice update there Jack! I liked the de-breifing with the Duke too, stood out for some reason.....
Even hearing of Luper as a background character still gave me a strange feeling, made me think of Oasis and how good it was as well. Great work on this part mate and I'll be waiting4updates.
Did anyone ask for an update? As for this one, I needed to add something silly. This just came up when I overheard a conversation between the guys sitting behind me in class.
Two men stood on a balcony at the very top of the tall tower, looking down on the land below. The sun shone brightly in the clear sky.
,,I haven’t seen you since the formation of the council. I won’t say that I disapprove of you coming here yet I still need to ask. Why did you come?” The shortest of the two spoke. His pale skin and pitch-black beard provided a sharp contrast with the golden hue of his friend. The golden-skinned man gave a simple smile.
,,The weather is nice today. You should get outside more often, my friend.” He said, evading the question.”
The pale man howled with laughter.
,,That won’t happen soon, I’m afraid. Never forget that we are in the end, opposites. The sun and the grasslands belong to you, yet the shadows cast by the fire of the forge belong to me. No, I don’t think this will change too soon. Now, why did you come?” He repeated.
,,Not now. After the sun has fallen into the sea, my friend. Then, I shall tell you why I’ve come.”
I munched on my bread without a care in the world. The bed had done its work as usual and I felt like I could run from one end of the island to the other. I also had a nice dream. So all in all, nothing was wrong. Sure, things might go bad at any moment but it’s not healthy to worry about it al the time. Since it was my day off, I decided to make the most of it. I went fishing.
I knew a really nice fishing spot, just behind the castle. There were always fish around, though none of the large and hungry Slaughterfish which was good. Fish that saw you as food weren’t very appetizing. As I approached my spot, I heard voices. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who knew about this place.
,,I really don’t see your point in this. It will be fine, I tell you.” I recognized the voice as belonging to Leroth. Was he explaining the art of fishing?
,,Fine? You always say it will be fine. Just look at you, you nearly lost your life to some amateur, sent the kid up against the Sixth House and yet still you insist on things being fine?!” Only one man had that gruff tone. Serius.
,,But he succeeded, didn’t he? I’m telling you, the kid is ready. Dren won’t even notice till it’s too late. When he notices, we’ll be ready to tie him up and deal with his friends.” I swallowed back a curse.
Was Leroth planning on betraying the Duke? It sounded like that. Now that was something I did not need to hear. After all, I knew that there were no real rules in our shadowy trade. Yet, I had always held the principle of loyalty as the only thing separating us from the backstabbing murders, bandits and thieves we fought against. Now, it seemed as if Leroth had abandoned his loyalty. What was I supposed to do now? Did I have to remain loyal to Leroth who was my master, or the Duke, the man I worked for?
,,Ready? Where do you think you get the right to tell if the kid is ready?” Serius argued.
,,As Ebonheart’s spymaster, I know when someone is ready or not. Trust me, the kid is ready. I’m sure there will be no problems.” Leroth persisted.
,,You said that Ephraim was ready!” Silence. Then, there was the sound of armoured boots stomping the wet mud. There was no chance for me to hide when Serius moved towards me. We spotted each other at the same time. I shivered. That conversation was something I wasn’t supposed to overhear. I would surely be punished.
,,Know your limits, kid. Just know your limits.” The Imperial grunted and passed me without another word.
Leroth followed soon. There was an awkward silence between us. We both knew what had happened, what I’d heard.
,,Ah, Ro-El. I was just going to see you. Since today was supposed to be our day off, I had a very pleasant trip planned.” He said with his usual cheery tone. Except that the cheerfulness was faked. My mind had kicked into high gear. I no longer knew if I could trust the Bosmer. If he planned to kill me or something, I had no chance against him. In the end, I was still the apprentice.
,,Sure, where to?” I answered with the same faked cheerfulness.
,,Balmora.”
Leroth didn’t plan on killing me, at least not at this time. The trip he’d planned took us to the Vivec mage guild where he bought a single teleportation to the Balmora mage guild. We vanished in a twirling cloud of Magicka and reappeared a moment later. I quickly took in my new surroundings, fighting off the disorientation that followed this kind of transportation. We were in a small office of sorts occupied by a Breton and a Khajiit who was working on a few potions behind her desk.
,,Ok, there is something I don’t understand, master Leroth.” I began.
The Bosmer watched me intently.
,,If as you claim we came here to test my talent for Magicka, then why did we pass through the Vivec hall? Being positioned in the capital, isn’t that the most likely place to do such a thing? Besides, didn’t we had this test before?” I continued. Leroth forced a smile.
,,This is where the experts are.” He claimed.
,,And since when do you care about who the expert is?”
The smile vanished.
,,Oh, alright. I give up. We are not here to conduct this test. You see, I was in the arena last night, watching the Redoran Archmaster and the Mage guild Archmage getting killed. It was there that I saw this totally hot Bosmer chick!” He sputtered. I frowned.
,,Bosmer chick?” I wasn’t so sure if I could just believe this. We’d come here for Leroth’s lovelife? I never knew he was the shy type who needed assistance at getting close to a woman. If so, he’d made a wrong choice. As he’d noted upon our first meeting, my conversation skills weren’t all that good. All I knew were some pick-up lines I learned from a drunk Nord. I wasn’t exactly the most effective matchmaker. More like matchbreaker, really.
,,Yes, she works in Balmora. She’s enchanted my heart.” I could hear the Khajiit snicker behind our backs. Leroth looked disappointed.
,,I know, Ro-El. I’m just acting stupid. Let’s just hit a teleport back to Vivec.”
I turned around.
,,What are you waiting for? We don’t have all day. I’m a busy man, you know.” I told him and grinned as I headed up the slope to the upper floor. Leroth threw his hat into the air.
,,Whoopie! That’s my boy! Know what? I’ll organize the Magicka test as a bonus.” I simply shook my head when he said that. Yes, Leroth might have become a traitor or maybe not. Whatever was the case, he was still my friend and I would treat him as such for as long as possible.
Hehe, Leroth fancies a little Bosmer lass. And this idea of betraying the Duke is quite interesting, I wonder where that speculation is going to lead to...
Great update jack!
Wait you mean Galbedir? Stuck-up b......osmer.
Hey, you can't argue about taste. Me, I wouldn't touch a Bosmer with a ten metres long pole.
We walked up the slope till Leroth stopped. He was merely staring at the door in front of us. I needed no further information. Without saying a thing, I knocked and went through. Leroth was too nervous to follow. The inhabitant of the small office was indeed a Bosmer, though I wasn’t capable of saying if she was hot or not. It takes a Bosmer to judge a Bosmer. Now how was I going to play mister love expert? As I’d said earlier, I only knew some pickup lines from a drunk Nord. That wouldn’t work.
I casually looked around the room as if I was browsing the Bosmer’s wares. Judging by all the soulgems lying around, I concluded that Leroth’s obsession happened to be an Enchantress.
,,Hey, that’s a big one. What’s in it?” I said, pointing at a large purplish stone with spiky features.
,,Yes, that is a Greater Soulgem filled with a Winged Twilight.” Bingo.
,,Really? I bet that my friend would love to see this. He works with things like that, as a hobby.” I replied smoothly. As I’d hoped, that sparked the woman’s interest. Man, I might actually not screw up here.
,,I would like to meet this friend sometime. Perhaps next time you visit?” The woman offered. Right up from that point, I knew I could not screw up anymore. Nothing gets a relationship started better than a good conversation over mutual interests.
,,Actually, he’s browsing for some potions downstairs. We’re trying to deal with a case of the flu back home. I’ll go and drag him over. Please wait for just a second.”
Leroth was still standing outside the door, not sure what to do. I grabbed him by the arm and almost literally shoved him through the door, after waiting for an appropriate amount of time to hide the fact that Leroth had been eavesdropping on us all the time.
,,Just have a nice talk and relax. I’m off to meet the steward.” I hissed into his ear before departing, leaving Leroth trapped in the Bosmer’s office. I would see the results of my matchmaking later.
,,Now, hold still…….I’ll put you into a trance.” The Dunmer steward spoke. I closed my eyes and felt my conscious self plunge into the depths of my being.
The man waited patiently as the platform lowered through the dark shaft. Next to him, the stocky old man was pacing back and forth with a lot less patience.
,,Calm down, master. A few minutes of waiting never killed anyone.” The man said to calm down his pacing friend.
,,Hah, that’s easy for you to say, Dumac! But I, I don’t know what to expect. What if a problem occurred while I was out to fetch you and this Chimer buddy of yours? This is a masterpiece of unequalled complexity. Next to this, Numidium is as sublte as a rock!” The old man claimed.
Dumac gave his Chimer buddy a knowing grin.
,,While I hate to sound as a critic, Numidium has never even done as much as move a single finger. So will this one work?” He asked the old man.
,,It is all a matter of the right powersource. Numidium is big and as such requires a lot of power. This new Centurion will be smaller and therefore require less power to move. Already, we have claimed the souls of a hundred Dremora and bound them into several massive soulgems of unequalled perfection.” He explained as the platform finally reached the end of the shaft and now lowered into a giant chamber lit by countless Dwemer lights. In the middle, the unfinished shape of a Humanoid Centurion drew all attention. The old man spread out his arms, as if encompassing the entire room in his grip.
,,I present to you, the great bane of the barbarious nordfolk and the defender of Resdayn. Pelinal!”
All three gazed upon the giant Centurion.
,,Pelinal, the Glorious Knight.” The Chimer whispered. He looked at Dumac who smiled.
,,Now Resdayn will be safe against any invasion.” The Chimer said. Dumac sighed.
,,True, but is it needed?” He wondered. Pelinal stood there at the center of attention, like a god. It was a symbol, both of hope and destruction.
I opened my eyes and stared in the steward’s.
,,What was that?” I asked bluntly. The steward whose name I did not know shook her head.
,,That which you saw can only be seen by you, it is the very core of your soul. What did you see?” She asked me in return.
,,I saw……..Pelinal.” I answered after a long silence.
The steward frowned.
,,You mean Pelinal Whitestrake? That is unusual. I’ve never met anyone who received a vision with Pelinal Whitestrake.” I shook my head upon hearing that.
,,No, just Pelinal.” Something told me, a feeling, that I shouldn’t tell her that my Pelinal came in the form of a giant Dwemeric construct. I had no idea what to make out of it myself.
Hmmm that's was an interesting vision, I'm rather intriguied about why Ro-El saw such a thing. Nice matchmaking as well ![]()
Continue as soon as you can!
Update time!
The people in my vision were no strangers to me. I’d dreamed about them before, sporadically. Ever since I came to Vvardenfell though, those dreams had come more often. What was going on with me? I kept my questions in front of me as we went through more questionable tests. Finally, after my patience had worn as thin as a spider’s thread, the steward gave me the results.
,,There is plenty of Magicka hidden inside you. So theoretically, you should have all the means necessary to becoming a mage. With the proper training.” The steward left no doubt about what she considered proper training. Training that delivered shiny coins into her pockets.
,,But? There’s something here you’re not telling me.” I pressed her to voice the thoughts she’d kept silent. The steward shot me a sharp look, realizing that she’d underestimated me for yet another ‘dumbwitted Nord’.
,,You appear to be connected somehow to something, though I have no idea what. In essence, all of your Magicka is being drawn across this connection towards the other end.”
My eyebrows rose a notch. This was new. When Leroth conducted the test himself, all he knew was that I was totally unable to cast even the simpliest spell. He found nothing about some connection. I might not be dumbwitted, but this proved to be a mystery even for me. Did it have anything to do with my vision?
I excused myself and left the building with the intent of getting a bite to eat and perhaps a single flin to drink. The Plates looked like a decent place so I crossed the street. Inside, I found your usual drunkards, guards off duty and…….a Bosmer couple having a romantic diner. I turned around and left instantly. It was best not to interrupt them. Which lead me to the obvious conclusion of having to find somewhere else to drink. A short bit of walking led me to my new drinking spot. The Council club.
The door opened before me. I had just begun to appreciate the apparent friendliness when I found out that the door had not been opened for me. Instead, a Dunmer in rather cheap clothes was shoved out by a younger Dunmer sporting a ridiculous haircut. Once outside, the two began to yell at each other.
,,I know you did it! I was there, I saw you!” The woman shrieked and was promptly rewarded by a slap in the face that sent her to kiss the street.
,,Shut up, hag! No one would ever believe a simple maid such as you! Nine-Toes killed Ralen Hlaalo, not me! Now get out!”
The maid argued a bit more about Argonians not having Dwemer axes and that the murderer had exactly the same haircut as he had. In the end though, said axe forced her to swallow her words and storm off. I shook my head before going inside myself. My desire to drink had diminished greatly. My desire for justice though had only been stimulated. I’d rather believe a hysterical maid than a brute like him.
,,Hi.” I cheerfully greeted the bandit as I took my usual glance at the room. A smith, plenty of heavy tools and of course that big axe. The violent type. He looked at me in a manner eerily similar to the way my masters in the egg mine had looked at me. As if I was a tool.
,,What do you want, scum?” He hissed.
,,Now, now. No need to get so formal with me. I’ve just been looking for the best smith in town to fix a family heirloom which I, poor me, seem to have broken.” I replied with a perfect sense for drama. While the Dunmer rolled his eyes, I quickly emptied his pockets. He noticed something though and his hand was about to enter his now empty pocket.
,,So, could you be so kind and help me out?” I interrupted him before my situation could go bad. The movement of his hand stopped just hair’s width from the pocket.
,,And what is this family heirloom you speak of?” He asked me, making it perfectly clear that I was wasting my time.
,,Your reproductive organs.” I told him with a stupid grin before snatching a hammer from the anvil and slamming it into the mentioned area. He keeled over which gave me the chance to deliver a vicious kick to the face, breaking his nose and sending him rolling down the stairs. Now my chance for a drink had been ruined for the second time. I snatched an unopened bottle of Mazte from the floor and made a quick exit.
Outside, I had a chance to examine the items I’d found. My hands produced the usual kind of junk and…a note. What was it with bad people and forgetting to get rid of their notes?
Thanelen Velas, my brother in the Camonna Thong. It has come to my ears that Ralen Hlaalo opposes my ideals. Remove him in any manner you see fit, as long as he will never breathe again. Feel free to blame one of those scaled animals for the deed.
D
And it was a good note as well. At least on this island such things were considered sufficient evidence. I walked by a guard and slipped it into his pocket, making sure he noticed but without giving him a chance to recognize me.
,,Hey! Thie……..huh, what’s in my pocket?” I was gone before he had gotten over the surprise. Five minutes later, six heavily armed Hlaalu guards barged into the council club. Another five minutes later, they came out again, dragging a heavily beaten Velas with them. One more crook behind the bars.
I sat down at the edge of the bridge spanning the river at the center of the city and enjoyed my Mazte. The note had raised another question. This wasn’t simply a random act of violence. No, someone had made a decision to assassinate sir Hlaalo without using the official authorities on assassination, the Morag Tong. Apparently, the Camonna Tong had been seen as a better tool for this crime. Why, and who was this D? I sighed heavily as a dark thought clouded my mind. D, maybe it was Duke Dren. Was this why Leroth was thinking about betrayal? Or was I wrong altogether. Was something else going on here? If so, then what?
Psst! Ro-El!! There's more than one Dren! That D could be Orvas Dren!
Too bad I don't think Ro-El will hear me. Anyways, excellent update. Groin shots are funny!!!
Oh Man, Jack, I'm still chuckling over that groin shot, I swear I could see his face twist in pain!
And where, oh where, could that note be leading too?
Heh, the note will play a role later, not now.
I wandered around the city aimlessly for a few hours till Leroth finally managed to drag himself away from the ‘totally hot Bosmer chick’. As we walked back to the mage guild to hit our teleport to Vivec, we talked a bit about how we’d wasted our time. He went on for a long time about how wonderful Galbedir was and all. Me, I gave my story in just two minutes. I told him everything, except about who wrote that note. I believed it would be smart not to confront Leroth with my suspicions.
,,So let me get this straight, you hit a murderer in the groin with a hammer and then kicked him down the stairs, only to have him arrested by a whole bunch of guards a few minutes later?” Leroth asked me with that funny voice of his.
,,Well….that sort of sums it up. It was rather funny though.”
Leroth stopped to stare at me as if I was a Dremora.
,,Funny?! The guy is Camonna Tong! They’re the ones who pull the ropes in House Hlaalu. Our murderer will be out again by tomorrow and he’ll make sure to have you added to their death list. You stupid fool!” The Bosmer nearly literally exploded. I was blushing. I hadn’t thought about that when I messed with the smith.
,,Sorry.” I muttered and shrugged. From what I’d heard, the Camonna Tong was on our death list and would be wiped out someday. Nothing to worry about.
,,Sorry won’t help you at all. You’ll have to skip town, kid. I’ll have to find a use for you.” Leroth’s eyes focussed on nothing as he paced around.
,,I got it. Head to the Bitter Coast, Seyda Neen. Just follow the road and the signs. You’ll pass Pelagiad on the way. There, meet up with our local agent and help him investigate the smuggling activities. It is a full-time job so it should keep you busy till things cool down over here.” He elaborated.
We had arrived at the gate by now.
,,So, how will I recognize your agent? He is undercover, right?” I asked.
,,Oh, I almost forgot. He has a necklace with a tiny wooden spoon attached. You can’t miss him. He’s the finest agent we have so make sure you pay attention and learn a few things. Now, get going.” I didn’t knew if Leroth wanted to have me out of the way because of the Duke, or simply because I had been acting as a fool with a short temper again. Perhaps both.
I spoke a simple word of goodbye and headed out on the road. Having spent the night in Pelagiad, I arrived at Seyda Neen somewhere around lunchtime. My growling stomach alerted me to the time of the day so I made a quick stop at a place called Arille’s Tradehouse. I kept my meal simple, just a flin and some bread. Obviously, there wasn’t a lot to do here.
,,Oh my, a new inhabitant. Vodunius Nucius, at your servant.” An Imperial plopped down on a stool next to me and slapped me on the shoulder as if we were best of friends. Needless to say, we weren’t. I for one didn’t like people who acted to total strangers like that. It was fishy.
My suspicions were revealed when he pulled out a scroll and began writing on it.
,,Of course, that means there are certain procedures. Shall we discuss it over a flin? What could your name be, good sir?” I managed a quick glance at the scroll and memorised what he’d written. Then, I mentally translated the upside down writing. A tax report.
,,No, sorry. I’m just passing through. So according to the law, I don’t need to pay any taxes.” I replied and then turned my back to him. A moment later, Vodunius Nucius had moved around again into my field of view.
,,Looking at my tax report, aren’t we? You must be hiding something. Don’t think I don’t know you. Hah, thieves. That’s what you all are, miserable thieves with no respect for law and order.” He chuckled with an icy voice.
,,If you don’t shut up and go accuse someone else, I will show you my respect for law and order.” I replied in the same tone. The man had struck a nerve and he would regret it if he kept pushing.
Vodunius kept pushing. In fact, he shouted a barely concealed challenge for all to hear.
,,What, kid? Did the flin rise to your head? You’d better back down before someone here gets hurt!”
I grinned.
,,Is that a threat?” I asked him politely. Vodunius grinned as well.
,,As you are so observant. Yes, it is.” He told me and laughed at his own wit.
,,Good.”
Three seconds later, I dropped a few septims on the counter and walked away.
,,I don’t like threats. Here are your taxes. Use it to fix your bones.” I mumbled as I dropped a single septim onto the unconscious form of Vodunius. I then casually walked out of the building while whistling a nice tune.
,,You have been trained by Leroth, I see. Good morning, hotheaded youngster.” I turned around to see who had spoken. A necklace with a wooden spoon caught my attention. It was the agent I was supposed to meet. In Leroth’s words, the finest in the order.
Who could the agent possibly be!? I want to know! NOW!!!
Or when you're ready to... I'll be patient. I guess.
Damn taxmen, they're often not well liked. And it's definitely worse when you act like that!
I hate to be the one to bring it up, but... probably Fargoth.
I'm so sorry.
I'll let you wonder about it for a bit longer. Now I present, the update.
Silence ruled for a short moment between us. We came to an agreement and left town without being seen. For ten minutes, we walked along the coast, jumping over the few Mudcrabs in our way. Then, we stopped in front of a tomb.
,,This should be far enough. You are?” The agent asked me.
,,Ro-El Frost, from Ebonheart.” I replied and we shook hands. So far, the agent hadn’t told me his name yet but I was fine with that. Names were trivial, unimportant. In the end, the person behind the name was what mattered.
,,Ah, Ro-El. Yes, now why did you come all the way to Seyda Neen? Got into trouble with that short temper of yours?”
I blushed slightly but nodded. We might as well keep honest with each other here in a world of lies and deceit.
,,Sort of. I beat up and humiliated a murderer. Turns out he was Camonna Tong. So instead of waiting for them to check their death list, I got sent here to investigate smuggling activities.”
The agent nodded. Obviously, the story was familiar to him. Perhaps he’d once done something similar himself.
,,Camonna Tong. I won’t sleep any less when they get beaten. Serves them right. As for the smuggling, that’s just a way to spend time. There are numerous caves around here, too many to clean out. I’d say we spend the night around a nice fire and get to know each other better. Cooked Crab meat is very good, trust me.”
He was right, the Crab meat was good. I also learned a great deal more of our agent. He was born in Elsweyr and moved to Vvardenfell at the age of twenty-one. There, he soon gathered himself a network of contacts which was taken into use by his lifetime friend, Leroth. He was good at being unnoticeable which helped him in scouting out any new arrivals on the island. Not only that, he also claimed to have a steady hand with the bow.
,,The things I do for the Duke. You know, once I even had an entire tree blown up in my face just to keep my cover. So, what are your talents?”
I thought about the question for a while. I wasn’t really all that special in the end, only average.
,,Getting into trouble, I guess. Fortunately, I’ve gotten a good pair of hands and feet to get me out of that trouble. That means, I know how and where to punch people. It’s too bad that I don’t quite think before punching. I once tried to punch a zombie, bad idea.”
Our conversation moved onto less serious subjects, such as the ‘101 uses for Cliffracer plumes and other bodyparts’, a well-known book among the locals. The sun dove into the sea and the moons rose up into the night sky. We covered up the fire, dropped ‘calm creature’ stones around our campsite and called it a night. The sound of a nearby Scrib soothed us into our sleep.
The banquet was, as always, incredibly vast. A Kwama pie the size of three men adorned one table, ten grilled Slaughterfish the other. Men, women and children from all over the island had come. Dumac walked around the hall, drifting from conversation to conversation.
,,I notice that you’re not eating, my friend.” A voice called out behind him. Dumac turned around slowly and gave an apologetic grin.
,,I have a banquet like this five days a week. If I just go around and stuff myself full each day, I end up fatter than a Kwama queen.” He said and laughed loudly. The Chimer chuckled before putting a hand around his friend’s shoulder.
,,Remember what I told you? I would tell you the reason for my coming after the sun had set. Well, there is my reason.” He spoke and gestured towards a female Chimer. The woman noticed this and bowed before the two.
,,Dumac, meet Almalexia. Almalexia, meet the king of the Dwemer and my good friend, Dumac.” The Chimer proudly proclaimed.
Dumac looked from one to the other. He was amused by his friend’s antics.
,,A woman? You came here just to say that you’re getting married? That’s wonderful! I’ll have to think of a wedding gift. A gift like no other. Give me a moment to think, ok?” He said.
Almalexia looked at the Dwemer. ,,So this is Dumac.” She thought, her face revealing none of the emotions inside.
,,Numidium would be nice.” She said with a joking tone. The Chimer instantly laughed, Dumac merely frowned before laughing himself, a bit more hesitant.
,,I don’t think it would fit through the door. Sorry, but I’ll settle for something a bit smaller.” He then pulled his Chimer friend away from his wife-to-be.
,,Listen, Nerevar. I hate to spoil the fun, but she sounds ambitious.” He whispered. Nerevar shrugged.
,,So? Who isn’t ambitious? You’re the king, don’t tell me that you aren’t ambitious.” He countered slightly annoyed. Dumac sighed.
,,I know, and look at what I’ve caused. I’ve caused the death of thousands of people, I’ve lead armies into battle. Trust me when I tell you, ambitious women and men only cause the spilling of blood.” He warned.
The two friends stared at each other, the atmosphere cooler than usual.
,,Nevermind that. She doesn’t look like a psychopathic murderer. So just go ahead and get married. And when you have some kids running around your house, uncle Dumac would be pleased to entertain them.” Dumac continued in a lighter tone.
,,Speaking about marriage, kids and all. I was looking for a Chimer to wed myself.” Now it was Nerevar’s turn to frown.
,,A political marriage? I thought you were against those. You turn down like, thirty marriage offers each year.”
Dumac laughed at the idea. It was true, he did turn down countless women each year.
,,I know, I should be ashamed. It’s not just that though. I’m sure that there is a fine lass among your people who I’d be happy to marry even if I had to give up my social status for it. So that would be a political marriage with an advantage in my private life. So, expect me to pay a visit someday.”
As Nerevar returned to his love, Dumac fled to a less crowded corner of the hall.
,,Why did she bring up Numidium? Not as a joke. Does she have any idea of the power such a thing requires to move? How that power could be abused? Or am I getting paranoid?”
The next day brought rain with it, lots of it. The rain perfectly displayed my own state of mind. My mind was clouded, thoughts swirling around in a mental storm. My dreams were getting stranger and stranger. Now that I’d gotten a few names to go on, it was even worse.
So Dumac was, the king of the Dwemer? And that woman was Almalexia, the Chimer was Nerevar. Nerevar and Almalexia as in, Nerevar Indoril and Almalexia, the Tribunal goddess?
Interesting. I honestly have no idea where this is going to go. Well done, Jack.
Wow, these dreams/visions of Ro-El are really, really interesting. I wonder how this is all going to connect together eventually...
Also I get the impression that this other Agent might be a Khajiit, given that he came from Elsweyr. But you could just be tricking us... crafty jack!
Muhahaha! Cower in fear before the wrath of the agent! No really, with the treatment he regularly receives, it was about time someone put him in a different role. Enjoy the update. Muhahaha!
The agent seemed to have noticed my behaviour.
,,Anything on your mind?” He asked me curiously. I shrugged.
,,Sort of, weird dreams mostly. About a bunch of Dwemer. No real clue why.” We looked at the sea for a while.
,,You are not Dunmer, so that would make you immune to soulsickness. That, and your dreams don’t go about the usual subject. I’d say you are seeing too much into this.” The agent told me. Maybe he was right, but I had this distinct feeling I was seeing too little into this.
,,Soulsickness eh? I never liked the sound of that. Can’t say what it is or where it comes from. The Dunmer blame the ash storms. I personally can’t see how a big load of dust makes you go wacko. Besides, soulsickness even spreads to those parts that are relatively ash free. When was the last time Balmora had to face an ash storm? Ebonheart records say three years ago. Back then, there were no reports of soul sickness on that part of the island.” Was my opinion on the dreaded curse that currently swept through the Dunmer population.
We walked back to Seyda Neen in silence. To my surprise, the agent continued past the small town till we reached a door set into the rock.
,,Smuggling cave. It’s been cleared out a while back, only I’ve noticed that the operation had begun once more. So, I figured we might as well clean it up again to keep our neighbourhood safe.” The agent explained to me as he took out a bow made of Chitin. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thing. Those bows were known for ease of manufacture, low cost and their pathetic firepower. The agent gave a knowing grin.
,,Not much to look at, isn’t it? Heh, I once took out a Flame Atronach with it, using a silver arrow of course. Don’t judge a weapon by its appearance, judge it by its wielder.”
I stepped up in front of the door.
,,Any preference of entry?” I asked, already raising my foot. We both now grinned.
,,Absolutely. When a door gets kicked in, everyone expects a barbarian with a big melee weapon or something, not a sneaky archer. You open the door, I put an arrow in the guard.” I took aim and hit the door right at the weak spot. With a loud crack, the lock broke and the door swung open. By then, I’d already ducked and rolled inside, feeling the arrow whistle over my head. There was a loud thunk and when I jumped up, the only one around to greet me was a Dunmer with a Chitin arrow right in the left eye.
We moved through the entrance chamber to another door. This time, we crouched down and listened before acting. Someone could be heard ascending a ladder.
,,Hey Guvrayn, what’s all that noise?” A voice said with the unmistakable slur of drunkenness. I shrugged as I brought out my best imitation of a Dunmer voice. They all sounded alike, especially if you were drunk.
,,I tripped over the guardamned bucket. Don’t you have anything better to do than breathing down my neck?” I hoped that the rudeness as well as my imitation would do the trick and keep him from busting through the door.
,,You’re right. I’ve got a deal to make. Well, keep an eye on that door. We don’t wanna have any intruders poking their nose into our business.” The owner of the voice could be heard descending the ladder.
I stifled a laugh.
,,Keep an eye on the door, we don’t want any intruders.” Well, too late pal. The agent was not laughing.
,,Hrisskar. That damned drunkard of a Nord bully is a smuggler. I should have known. So that is one corrupt Legionaire.” He hissed between clenched teeth. I understood that they weren’t exactly best friends.
,,You take care of him, I’ll handle everyone else.” I offered. I then looked at the door and came to a conclusion. No noisy entrances this time. Using a simple lockpick, I managed to open the door almost without a sound. We slipped through and looked both ways carefully. We could either go up or down.
We went up first, where we found a storage room of sorts. No one was there so we turned around and now headed downwards. Peeking down the ladder, we spotted three people. One was a Nord, obviously Hrisskar, one was a Breton and the last was an Imperial. A surprising lack of Dunmer for a smuggling operation. I took a closer look at the Imperial. It was the rude tax collector. Waiting for the right opportunity to strike, we had a chance to eavesdrop on their conversation.
,,So about that thing you found in Argonia. I’d like 3000 septims for it, no less.” The Breton demanded. Vodunius Nucius shook his head.
,,Right, do you take us for a fool? It won’t do a thing unless that crazy mer tells it to. We’ll have to put up with that one as well. You can get 2000.” He countered. The Breton sneered.
,,2000? Do you want to convict me to the life of a beggar? I’ll tell you what. 2500, and you get a favour from me as well.” During the whole conversation, Hrisskar didn’t say a word. It was obvious that he was acting as the tax collector’s bodyguard here. A dumb thug.
Vodunius gave a nasty smirk.
,,Deal and here’s the favour. An outlander broke my nose and several other bones yesterday. He was last seen heading west. He wears blue clothes. I want you to find and kill him.” My eyes darkened. Outlander who broke his nose? It looked like Vodunius wanted to take his revenge on me. That could be arranged. I took a rapid look at our surroundings and came to a plan. I informed the agent of it with a few gestures of my hand. He nodded and nocked an arrow.
,,Mind if I drop in on the party?” I shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. All heads turned towards me. Using a rope hanging from the ceiling, I swung down with and got the chance to break Vodunius’ nose for a second time. The Imperial was sent off of the wooden platform he was standing on and splashed into an underground lake. Now only the Breton and Hrisskar stood in my way. The Nord drew a sword and closed upon me while the robed Breton took his distance. I had full confidence that Hrisskar was taken care of so I advanced upon the fleeing Breton. A scream behind me notified me that the agent’s bow had struck.
,,Now please don’t go away. We need to have a nice chat.” I told the Breton with one of my grins. That grin vanished as I realised that the Breton hadn’t been fleeing at all. He’d just been stalling for time. Time he needed to make fire. I managed to jump out of the way just in time to avoid a nasty burn. In doing so however, I’d pressed myself into a narrow corridor, removing all chances of evasion for the next shot.
,,You’re playing with fire, kid.” The Breton gloated as his hands lit up once more. I threw up my arms in front of my face in a futile effort to shield myself from the flames that would surely consume me. With a mighty roar, the fireball closed in, its warmth washing over me and…..vanishing.
We were both surprised at my survival. My surprise became even greater upon feeling the power that welled up inside me. My hand moved on its own, pointing at the Breton. The same fireball that had threatened to consume me now shot forth again, consuming its creator instead. For a few moments, I stood there staring at the corpse. Emotions filled me, taking away any ability to act.
I was horrified, angry, and strangely satisfied. I’d killed someone, despite having never planned to do so. I had brought myself into an inescapable situation by underestimating the Breton. The spell that was supposed to kill me, it had been absorbed and then reused instead. After a long struggle, I managed to shake off these feelings and walked towards the corpse. I looked to the right where I saw Hrisskar facing of against the agent.
,,What’s the matter with you. Did the alcohol give you a fool’s courage? I had nothing to do with it, I swear! I didn’t take your ring, the damn Redguard did! I didn’t tell him to go up to the lighthouse and find out where you hid it! I didn’t offer him money for it, even though he betrayed me! I had nothing to do with it!” The Nord howled. The agent calmly adjusted his aim and put an arrow in Hrisskar’s knee.
,,Do you really think I ever cared about that ring? No. I am not what you think I am. The Fargoth you know is a disguise, a test. A test to see just who this prisoner was that the Census and Excise saw it fit to make a great fuss about. Everything was a calculated act, including having a tree get blown up in my face. I am not the loser I pretend to be. The real Fargoth can hit a Scrib from threehundred steps away. You are much bigger and a lot closer. As a representative of the Duke of Ebonheart, a servant of the empire, I give you the punishment for your betrayal and the disgrace you’ve become. Death.” With a single shot, Fargoth killed the Nord as if he was pouring a glass of Flin.
We looked at each other. Fargoth took a short glance at the smoking corpse of the Breton and shrugged.
,,Smugglers usually suffer a violent death. His was much quicker than most. Perhaps you’d like to fish Vodunius out of the water. Being a tax collector here appears to be a bad choise of profession.” The agent chuckled. I didn’t say a word, still shaken by the death I’d caused. Inside, I was shouting at myself to stop acting like a fool. I had no problems when others did the killing, so why should I have problems when I was the killer? My heart was really messed up.
Excellent update Jack! So we find out the "mystery agent" is actually Fargoth and that Ro-El possesses reflect abilities. I'm interested in seeing the latter part explored further.
Keep up the great work buddy!
Fargoth? NOOOOOO!!!!
No, Canis. The tax collector you speak of is the unfortunately death one. The game never put in a replacement so I had Vodunius take the job. Hrisskar, Ergalla and him are my most hated Seyda Neen characters.
Oh, I don't blame you. It's a worthy interpretation.
Also a funny thing is, is it just me or is Seyda Neen the only place with a tax collector (though death) in Morrowind?
Ok, I guess that works. That leaves only a few other problems, such as where the heck do they hide the toilets? *Thinks of Uriel Septim running out of the Imperial city whenever he needs to take a leak.*
Oh well, an update. I've worked with this new character before in the rp-thread but I kind of lost him due to circumstances. Now, I plan on reviving him to his full glory.
Chapter 2: Path of the dream.
Vodunius was flailing with his arms, trying to keep from drowning with his heavy robe. I unceremoniously grabbed him and dragged him out. In doing so, I caught the glimpse of a torch at the end of an underwater tunnel. This cave seemed to have everything.
,,Fargoth? I’m going to investigate the other end of the tunnel. Could you perhaps interrogate mister tax collector here?”
While I was fooling myself with mere curiosity, the truth was that I needed some time alone. Time to think about what I’d done. Time which I didn’t spent thinking because, as I already said, I was fooling myself into believing I merely dove into the water out of curiosity.
It was only when I’d swam about halfway that I realized a tiny detail I’d forgotten. What if there were slaughterfish in the water? Sure, my skills with my fists were good on land but the water slowed me down tremendously, making any punch a futile effort. Fortunately for me, the waters were completely slaughterfish free, though I did come across a skeleton. A rusty saber was stabbed into the ground near it so I pulled it out before continuing. Just in case I met a fish on the other side.
The tunnel opened up into a round chamber of sorts. There wasn’t much to see from underneath the water, except a platform with a robed figure on it.
,,Great, more smuggling mages.” I thought to myself as lack of breath forced me up to the surface. Nearly instantly, a fistsized rock splashed into the water nearby. From this close, it took really bad aim to miss. I dropped my sword and withdrew my hands into my sleeve where I retrieved a pair of stars.
,,Stop that right now or I’ll poke both of your eyes with some thrown steel!” I warned the man.
,,I’ve totally had it with you. You will let me and my companion leave in peace or else you shall face my wrath! My command over the forces of Magicka is something you should not trifle with!” The old man shouted proudly in return. At least he didn’t throw any rocks which allowed me to take a better look at him.
He was dressed in a darkblue robe with a bluish hat on top. A long grey beard hid part of his golden Altmeri skin. An Altmer with a beard, that was unusual. A hue I knew all too well came from the inside of his sleeves.
,,Sir, you are wearing slave bracers. So currently, your command over the forces of Magicka can be trifled with easily.” I pointed out politely.
,,Bah, I can’t possibly be bothered with the details!”
I had to stifle a laugh. This guy was hilarious. Saying that he couldn’t be bothered with the details when said detail controlled whether or not he could blast everything to pieces.
,,Ro-El Frost, a….mercenary. My friend and I have been hired to clear this cave of smugglers. It is safe now. So, please follow me back to the entrance.” I offered, only to receive another hilarious comment.
,,What, do you honestly expect me to swim? I’ve never gotten around to learning how. There were greater priorities, such as growing a beard.”
I rolled my eyes and surpressed a sigh.
,,Hold on, bring me my staff and I shall separate these waters with a great display of my might.” The Altmer added quickly before I could vanish underwater. Whoever he was, he sure had a large expectation of his power. If anything, he was more arrogant than any other Altmer which sounded quite hard to believe. Yet here I was, with an Altmer who had refused to learn how to swim because he had to grow a beard. Just how did he ever manage to grow one in the first place?
,,Right, I’ll be right back.” I mumbled before taking a deep breath and diving. In reality, I had no idea where his staff might be. What if the smugglers had already sold it?
When I came back, Fargoth was still interrogating our prisoner. Several arrows poked out of various painful areas of the tax collector’s body.
,,What were you smuggling beyond Dwemer artefacts?” The Bosmer demanded to know. He was rather small, yet that didn’t diminish his intimidating appearance in the slightest.
,,Ow! No, not an arrow! I’ll tell! We were transporting ash statues, ash statues and small pouches filled with ash from Red Mountain. We had to deliver them all across the Bitter Coast and West Gash.” Vodunius cried.
Now things were getting clear. Vodunius was involved with the Sixth House, whatever that was. The ash statue sounded just like the thing Hanarai was dealing in. And pouches filled with Red Mountain’s ash? That might explain the presence of soulsickness in Balmora, even though there never was an ash storm near there. If the ash caused the soulsickness, I still had my doubts about that. I left the two alone and instead grabbed the Glass staff conveniently located atop a crate.
The staff sang with the promise of pure power. Power I could not accept. Despite my trick with the fireball, I was still a total loser when it came down to Magicka. Relying on other people to fire their lethal spells into me before I could use them myself didn’t sound right. Whatever was the case, I delivered the staff to the Altmer and also relieved him of his bracers.
The bearded fellow gripped his staff and waited for a moment as his Magicka reserves were restored by the staff’s power.
,,Now, step aside. I, Zarador, shall cause a miracle like you have never seen before!” He spoke with a perfect sense of drama. I’d expected something, anything but not this anti-climax. The only thing he did was cast a simple waterbreathing spell!
,,What happened to the separating of water?” I asked with a smug grin.
,,Bah, treating a peasant like you to a fancy trick is not worthy of my vast knowledge and skill.”
I rolled my eyes once more.
,,Right.”
Vodunius was silent upon our return. His body was devoid of arrows yet a red pool of liquid around him told me everything I needed to know. He was death.
,,So, you found the hostage this traitor spoke about. Perhaps he knows more about why they took him?” Fargoth asked with a raised eyebrow, his hand subtly hovering near his bow. The Altmer stepped forward and leaned on his staff as he looked into the eyes of the much shorter Bosmer.
,,Since you saved me the trouble of claiming revenge, I will answer. Centurion, come!”
A loud thumping of metal feet echoed through the cave. Before our surprised eyes, what looked like a walking suit of richly decorated Dwemer armour broke through a rusty fence. The thing stopped before the Altmer.
,,This here is Centurion. Those uncivilized criminals were looking for what they called the ‘heart of the knight’. They believed that Centurion holds the answer.” The Altmer claimed with a proud spark in his eyes.
,,I built it myself. Unfortunately, Centurion is not the heart of the knight, whatever this knight might be.”
I didn’t answer. My thoughts returned to my dreams, my visions. I had seen a knight there. Looking closer at Centurion I realized that it resembled a miniature version of Pelinal. Was Pelinal this knight? If my dreams were real, if they revealed the past to me, then what happened to Pelinal? For once, I longed to sleep, hoping that the answer would be revealed to me. The Sixth House was looking for the knight, I would try to find it first.
,,Ro-El? Are you awake? Listen, kid. There is no time to waste. We must go after Vodunius’ contact. We must destroy a Sixth House base he revealed to be near Balmora. Vvardenfell depends on it! The Duke depends on it!” Fargoth shook me back to reality. He was right. If we wanted our information to be useful, we had to act now.
,,I, Zarador of the Steel Tower shall accompany you. They have disgraced and humiliated me. Now they shall face my wrath. They shall cower before me as I strike them down with my powers.” The Altmer spoke up. Fargoth and I exchanged a grin. The Altmer might be overestimating himself. Not that it mattered, we could use any help we could get.
,,Welcome aboard, Zarador of the Steel Tower.” I replied, bowing slightly.
Hehehe, Zarador seems quite the character Jack. It's going to be some good reading ahead from what I can tell. Good stuff!
A long one. Enjoy.
Our trip to Balmora was as swift as possible. The Silt Strider walked as fast as its long legs could take it. Only the pockets of gas that revealed its similarity to the Netch kept it from falling. I was wary upon our arrival. What if the Camonna Tong were waiting for me? The fact that their club was situated right in front of the Silt Strider port did nothing to ease my worries. Fortunately, either they hadn’t figured out my deed yet or they were too busy drinking to keep an eye out.
There was not time for delays. We left Balmora even quicker than we’d entered it, this time on foot. None of us spoke a word, every lungful of breath fully devoted towards powering our legs forward. We passed fort Moonmoth, crossed a Dwemer bridge and soon descended a twisting path of ash accompanied by the strange Dwemeric towers of a what looked like a large Dwemeric fort.
,,Arkngthand, where the council met. Where Nerevar and Almalexia made their oath. Where the three blades were revealed.” My mind brought forth names, names that were strikingly familiar yet understanding slipped my fingers when I tried to grasp it. I ignored my strange connection to the Dwemer, focussing on running just a little bit faster.
Then, we’d arrived. A simple door like all others stood between us and an uncertain fate. I knelt down, swallowing the dry air like a man who has found a miraculous oasis in the middle of a desert. I was exhausted, there was no other word for it. My endurance had improved tremendously through the rigorous training Leroth had given me but in the end, I was still a rookie.
,,Sorry, I can’t go inside. I don’t want to kill again.” I managed to whisper. Beyond the exhaustion of my body, my soul was exhausted as well.
,,Guard the entrance, the Altmer and I will go inside.” I could only nod at Fargoth as a reply.
I sat down on a nearby rock from where I could see both sides of the road as well as the door. A pair of Cliffracers soared overhead, ignoring me completely. I was grateful for that. After all, I knew of the reputation these birds had. For a few minutes, I could hear the faint sounds of potent Magicka being unleashed. Then, silence. I waited and when I began to lose patience, I waited some more. By now, I had fully recovered from our run. However, I was beginning to get worried. Either this cave was huge or, Fargoth and Zarador had bitten off more than they could chew. If the latter was true, then all I could do was run and pray that I could make the nearby Legionaires perform a raid.
I doubted that they would. With all their regular patrols, I was convinced that the Legionnaires knew of this place. The simple fact that they refused to clean it out was evidence enough. Whatever was in there, it was enough to keep a whole fort of superbly trained soldiers elsewhere. Going inside after the two elves was definitely not an option.
I moved away from my rock, glancing at the door. It looked innocent, but what kind of terror did it hold? I was not eager to find out. I turned my back towards it and swiftly began to walk away. Then, it came. The voice. A voice I knew, somehow.
,,Who is it? Could it be? Yes, we remember. We recognize. Come and be welcomed, he who has returned from beyond.” My legs ceased to follow my command. Against my will, I returned to the door. My hands gripped the handle and pulled. I was no longer afraid.
He cave was lit by the eerie light of red candles that had been strewn all over. Rumbling, a zombie approached me. I stood my ground calmly, somehow feeling in my bones that the creature did not seek a fight. As it drew closer, its features became recognizable in the light cast by the candles. My heart stopped beating for a moment as finally, I realized what Hanarai had tried to tell me so long ago. It was not a zombie.
The remains of a suit that was unmistakable was wrapped around this terrible wreck of a man. It was a cuirass, with the emblem of Duke Dren himself on the chest. What Hanarai had claimed to be a blessing, was a curse like no other. Disgusting lumps of swollen flesh disfigured him. The man who had once lived beneath the skin was no more. Only a braindead monster, a slave of the Sixth House, remained.
It limped closer till finally, it stood still before me. I looked into its eyes and realized that I’d drawn the wrong conclusion. The man was still there, trapped in a body that was no longer his own. Slowly, my hand gripped the hilt of the sword sheathed at the monster’s side. I pulled it free and held it up.
,,Be free and find peace.” I whispered as I now gripped my weapon by both hands and plunged the blade in its heart. There was a faint hiss then, the corpse fell to the floor.
I examined the sword closer. The blade was long and thin, almost like a needle. Pure silver mixed with the finest steel. Like with the cuirass, the Duke’s emblem graced the bowl protecting the wielder’s hand. It was a weapon crafted by the best Orcish smiths, blessed by both the Divines and the Tribunal.
,,I will return your blade. Till then, the steel that once protected you shall protect me as I claim vengeance.” My hesitation had vanished. Whoever had done such a crime against everything that lived deserved to die. If my hand could kill those responsible, I would not slow my fist.
A scrap of paper tucked behind the thing’s belt caught my attention. I reached down and pulled it free. One eye scanning the corridor for trouble, the other eye focussed on the scribbling.
There is not much time. I don’t know how long I can keep my sanity. I don’t know how long it will be before he returns for me. I am Ephraim Serius. A loyal servant of the Duke of Ebonheart.
I stopped reading. I remembered the conversation I’d overheard between Leroth and Serius.
,,You said that Ephraim was ready!” Those were the final words Serius had said before stomping off. Ephraim, the man who I’d just freed from his prison, the man who apparently had been sent on the same mission Leroth had planned for me. Even now, I could not believe that the Duke was involved with this. I made a silent prayer for Ephraim’s soul. If I made it out of here alive, I would tell Serius that he no longer had to worry about the man who shared the same family. With a heavy heart, I continued reading.
I had been sent on a mission. I was to investigate the activities of Orvas Dren, the Duke’s own brother.
Orvas Dren? The Duke had an evil twin? That sounded so cliché it caused a smile even in this dark place. Now I knew the truth. No longer was I suspicious about Leroth. When he’d talked about taking action against Dren, he was speaking of Orvas, not the Duke.
Everything went well. Orvas treated me kindly, gracing me with his hospitality. Till the night came. Two assassins hired by him assaulted me. Their wicked blades paralyzed me. I was tied and taken away by Orvas’ terrible allies.
,,My brother will never find you. When he does, it will be too late for him and his Empire will be defeated. No one can stop House Dagoth.” Were the last words this monster in mortal form told me.”
For the third time, I paused. House Dagoth, the destroyed house. Not so destroyed at all, it seemed. I wanted to rush in and help my friends before they suffered the same fate as Ephraim yet I controlled myself. This note was written for me in the enemies’ lair. Every single bit of information could be vital.
I was knocked out and when I came to, I was here. Already, my flesh had been cursed even though it was not yet visible to the naked eye. A horrible monster dressed in robes spoke to me, explaining how I would serve the reborn House in search of the ultimate weapon. Boldened, I asked what this weapon was. Pay attention to what follows, as confident in his control over me, the monster was willing to reveal.
,,Long ago, in the battle for Red Mountain, Kagrenac betrayed his people. He had built Numidium, the great golem, given life to it with the heart of Lorkhan. During the battle, the giant machine wreaked havoc upon Kagrenac’s foes. Now, to complete his ascendancy to immortality, he claimed the souls of the Dwemer when no one was there to stop him. Only Dumac, weary of fighting against those he saw as his friends, had the fortune of being there when Kagrenac executed his plan. The two, king and priest, battled till Dumac was finally mortally wounded.
Kagrenac used his cursed tools to rip the very souls of his people out of their bodies. Dumac, clinging on to his mortal shell did the only action left that could stop his priest. When the souls of his people were taken, he claimed them for himself and gave life to the only weapon capably of fighting Numidium. This is how Pelinal, the shield of Resdayn awoke. The two Centurions, destroyer and protector, battled till Pelinal separated Lorkhan’s heart from Numidium with a swift strike. Both machines had suffered critical damage and fell.
Kagrenac died at Pelinal’s blade. The skies were ripped open and the servants of Azura took the knight away before it was claimed by the victorious Chimer. Now, after many years have passed, the heart of Lorkhan once again inhabits a great Centurion. Only Pelinal, whose whereabouts are unknown, stands between House Dagoth and victory.
Stranger who has slain the monster I’ve become. You must find Pelinal, the glorious knight, the shield of Resdayn. Find Pelinal, return its power. Only then can you destroy the Sixth House once and for all.
I put the note away. Now the truth about my visions had become clear. Pelinal was real, Dumac was real. Then, everything I’d seen was real. I was chosen, by forces unknown. I was chosen to find the Centurion and to battle the Sixth House, House Dagoth. This was why I lived, this was what I would die for if needed. I vowed at that moment that I would do everything in my power to fulfil Ephraim’s wish. I would defeat the Sixth House, or die trying.
Ahhhh......nice Jack! Indeed very nice....
Now, hopefully Ro-El decides to continue on and help out Zarador and Leroth, they could possibly need it.
This Pelinal Knight sounds quite interesting, now we know what the main goal is for this story. Good stuff so far!
I just wanted to explain here that Pelinal and knight are interchangable terms. Pelinal means 'Glorious Knight' in an Ancient Elven language if I remember correctly. So yeah, I always wanted to do something with giant Centurions. For one thing, Numidium with the Mantella was already pretty much unbeatable. (according to some stories, it conquered all of Tamriel) Then how could the Chimer ever hope to defeat it at Red Mountain where it was still powered by the heart of Lorkhan? My simple explanation is that the only thing capable of defeating Numidium would be another Centurion, bringing the total up to three. (Numidium, Dagoth Ur's Akulakhan and now Pelinal if I counted correctly.) Enough of me ranting, it is time to continue this thing.
I slowly walked further into the cave, accompanied by the red glow of the candles. More victims of the curse met me but I would not strike them down till I’d found the one who was in charge here. It was somewhat frightening, to be amidst these poor people, knowing that I might become one of them if I messed up. The price of failing had never been greater. Perhaps even more frightening was the fact that they displayed no aggression, only……curiosity?
I came upon some sort of altar. A pillar stood in the middle, holding many ash statues. Two furns stood beside it. One was filled with a variety of weapons and a chest, the other was filled with…….lumps of flesh. I nearly emptied my stomach at that moment. It was disgusting beyond comparison.
,,So, you have come. Welcome, returned one. Come, let us talk” I turned to the right. Further along a passage, I could make out a pit of boiling magma. A platform of burned rock rose up, with another altar at its top. And standing next to the altar was a being that seemed to have walked straight out of a nightmare.
My legs trembled at the sight of the slimy tentacles protruding from the things face. It became even worse when I began to notice other things, Elven features. This thing had been born as a Dunmer. I fought back my fear and ascended the stone path towards the thing.
,,You will tell me where my friends are.” I ordered it with a voice as cold as the ice of Skyrim. The monster gestured at yet another passage.
,,They are there. I have not yet blessed them as I know you would not agree on such an action. I welcome you, returned one.” It spoke with a voice that brought back the image of the Dunmer it once was.
My knuckles were white from the effort with which I gripped my blade. While I was unused to a sword, I would use it given half a chance. I wanted to kill this abomination right then yet there was still one question left to ask.
,,Why do you call me the returned one?”
The creature was silent for a short moment, thinking of the answer it would give.
,,Your soul belongs in Oblivion, where it has been throughout the eras. Now, you have returned in the form of a mortal, the form of your ancient enemy. Join us. While we last met on the battlefield at opposite sides of the sword, Lord Dagoth remembers the friendship you once shared with his master. For that, he is willing to give you a place among us, his most trusted advisors and assistants. The Sixth House shall rise. With it, you can make your House rise as well. There is only one thing Lord Dagoth would ask of you.”
The words rang like the truth, no matter how hard to believe or how hard to comprehend. While I’d received some answers, more questions had appeared.
,,What does he want?” I asked, slowly bringing my sword in the right position to strike. The creature flapped about with its tentacles, emitting a low tone from the flutelike appendage grown from where its chin used to be.
,,He wants the key. The key only you can wield.” It explained calmly, not in the least worried about my sword. They seemed very serious about all of this. A key that only I could wield? More proof for me that I was the one who was supposed to reawaken Pelinal and hand their behinds to them on a silver platter. Fine, I would be serious about it as well.
,,I don’t use keys, I use lockpicks.”
We both leapt forward at the same time, meeting at the center of the platform. It lashed out with its tentacles, I slipped in a diagonal slash with the sword. The silver cut off the flute, then the tentacles slammed into my chest and sent me flying beyond the ledge. I dug my fingers painfully into the cracked rock, somehow stopping my fall and holding on to my sword. I sheathed the blade so I could free up my other hand for clinging to the rock better. When I looked up, the thing stood on the ledge, staring down at me.
,,It is a shame that you should die. We could have used you but now…….we will have nothing to fear when the wielder of the key is gone.” It spoke as Magicka gathered around it, forming into a lethal spell.
I was not going to wait. Seeking for grip against the rock surface, I pushed myself away, dodging the spell and landing at the edge of the magma pit.
,,Well, you won’t have to fear anything once I’m through with you.” I shot back at the monster while I reached into my pocket for my trusty collection of scrolls. My fingers only revealed a messy lump of ruined paper. That was how I learned always to store my scrolls in a waterproof pocket in case I would go swimming like I did at Seyda Neen.
,,Just my luck.” I cursed and threw my now worthless scroll collection away. I turned around and ran.
Oh boy, oh boy! Ro-El is in quite the predictament. Also the Sixth House's interest in him is frightening, though I now have a vague idea of who Ro-El might be the reincarnation of....
Great work jack, this fic is turning out to be quite interesting!
I've got a feeling about this reincarnation business as well...
Nice post, Jack!
Short, so an update may follow later.
I had a choice here. I could dash for the exit or I could try and find a way to turn the tables. I chose the latter. Already, the formerly passive minions began to converge around me, flailing wildly with their arms. I unsheathed the sword I’d taken from Ephraim as I dove past their attacks. With a quick spinning motion, I put two of them out of their misery. A ball of crackling lightning zipped past my head, sending stone fragments into the air when it hit the wall. The leader had joined the chase.
I dove into the nearest passage and ran as if my life depended on it, which it did. To further my ongoing list of bad luck, the passage came to a death end. The good news was, that said death end contained a cage with Fargoth and Zarador. The Altmer was out cold, I couldn’t see if he was death or just unconscious. Fargoth though was awake.
,,Ro-El, you must have left quite an impression. They weren’t in such an uproar when we came in.” He said dryly. I pressed my back against the cage and held my blade pointed at the approaching mass.
,,What can I say? I’m famous.” I joked. Somehow, the gravity of the situation had brought me in a light mood. Quite odd.
,,Right, just give me my bow. It’s over there.” Fargoth spoke from behind my back, now more urgently. I had no idea what he wanted to do with that. Still, I lunged forward, using the nearest creature as a stepping stone to get across. I smoothly turned my landing into a roll ending at the place where the Bosmer’s bow and arrows had been discarded.
,,No, not the arrows! Just the bow!” I dropped the quiver of arrows and threw the bow over to Fargoth who caught it and withdrew into his cage.
,,You are a good runner.” The tentacled leader had caught up with me. Now I was trapped between a whole pack of cursed zombies at one side and a big spellslinging nightmare at the other. Not knowing what to do, I drew back on the Legion rules of engagement. Rule 51: When surrounded, attack in the direction of least resistance. In this case, the least resistance was the side with the big boss.
I rushed at it, somehow managing to catch it offguard. My sword bit into its robes, leaving a long gash in its side as I spun around and aimed a second blow at its back. My opinion of the blade was proven correct as the monster let out a scream of pain. It turned around to face me, forcing me to jump away from the swinging tentacles. My occasional clumsiness came into play when I tripped over a pebble and landed flat on my back. Enraged, my enemy shot a spell at me. I felt my legs freeze, my arms. My lungs drew breath with great effort against ribs that stubbornly refused to move. My heart beat slower, my mind was numbed.
Its minions approached me but were waved away.
,,Stop, I want to have the honour of killing him myself. Surely I will raise in rank when I report this to my lord.” If I could, I would have grinned. Legion rule 34: Don’t go for show, go for the kill. Yes, I was paralyzed. However, that spell could be turned on its owner in the blink of an eye. I gathered the threads of Magicka holding me down, subtly bringing them under my command. Not fast enough. A bolt of lightning hit my body, shocking me with its powerful charge. I was in silent agony, unable to make a sound. My vision blackened and through the haze of pain I realized that unless a miracle happened, I would die.
The creature screamed in pain again. This was my chance. I forced the spell out, making it slam into its creator at full force. Instantly, its movements froze, the swirling tentacles suspended in the air. I sprang up to my feet and plunged the silver sword right through its face into the brains.
,,You may scare the Legion, but their rules still apply.” I said as I withdrew the blade from the now lifeless creature. Already, my strength began to flee. I collapsed on the floor. The last thing I heard before succumbing to the darkness was the sound of running footsteps followed by the singing of a bow.
Shortest update ever!
Reason? I need to figure out a good look for the third blade. I already have a name, now I need the visual aspect. Also, I know nothing of Chimer or Dwemer marriage ceremonies, so I'm just making this all up.
They all looked expectantly at the sky. There it was, blocking out the sun. The strange machine descended towards the land with a slow graceful spin. Ropes were thrown down, Dwemer rushed up to secure the Airship to the rings embedded in the rock. Now a trapdoor opened, revealing a ladder.
Dumac climbed down and set foot on the ground.
,,Ah, finally arrived. It may not be as quick, but I’ll take the Cloudcleaver over teleportation any day.” He chuckled as he waved a greeting at the collected Chimer and Dwemer. He moved quickly over the carpet towards the door, eager to get inside before it would start to rain. The metal doors opened without a sound, their hinges being regularly oiled.
,,You’re late, Dumac.” Was the first thing Nerevar said to his friend. The Chimer was dressed in a traditional suit of armour that had been in his family for generations. It was too heavy and uncomfortable to use in real battle but for a ceremony such as today’s, it was perfect. Dumac wore a much more comfortable version of Dwemeric chainmail with Glass decorations. Finally, there was Almalexia who wore an exquisite dress as opposed to a suit of armour. Dumac greeted the woman politely before stepping onto the platform that had been built just for the occasion.
,,Chimer, Dwemer! I thank you for coming to join us on this glorious day! It is with a great sense of pride that I witness how this man and this woman will pledge their oaths! Well, I’ve never been a great lover of pompous ceremonies so let’s make it quick, shall we?” The king of the Dwarves shouted over the crowd, causing a few laughs. Dumac’s distaste for ‘pompous’ ceremonies was nearly legendary.
,,Nerevar Indoril, I grant you the hand of this woman, Almalexia. Almalexia, you have renounced your name and now lay claim on the name of Indoril. I grant your hand to this man, Nerevar Indoril. Do the both of you, swear that you will support each other? In peace and in war, in prosperity and in poverty?”
The Chimer answered as one.
,,Yes.”
Dumac smiled.
,,Good, then let’s get this over with and move on to the good part. It is time for the gifts!” A Dwemer stepped up to the king. In his arms he held a pillow. Three sheathed blades rested on the soft fabric. Dumac pointed at them and frowned a bit.
,,Why three?” He asked curiously.
,,Kagrenac couldn’t stop after two. He felt he needed to use all three elements. The third is for you.” The Dwemer explained. Dumac’s frown vanished.
,,Oh, I like receiving gifts. Give him my thanks.” He told the Dwemer who dropped the pillow with the swords on a pedestal and stepped back into the crowd.
Dumac picked up the first sword. It was a vicious, toothed scimitar. The moment he unsheathed the blade, bright flames erupted. Through the flames, Dumac read the inscription.
,,I present this sword to you, Nerevar Indoril. It’s name is Trueflame. May it always show you the right pad.” He spoke as he resheathed the blade and attached it to Nerevar’s belt. He then picked up the second blade. While Trueflame had been a brutal fang of flaming steel, this sword was sleeker and wrapped in crackling lightning.
,,I present this sword to you, Almalexia Indoril. It is called Hopesfire. May it bring hope to you in dark times.” He spoke with and attached it, with some trouble, to the belt of the woman’s dress.
,,Why is it called Hopesfire when it holds the element of lightning?” The Dwemer muttered to himself as he now reached for the third and final blade.
Oooo, I wonder what Dumac's Ice enchanted sword will be called... Hopefully not Iceshard. That name is all ready taken
I'm sure it'll be great though. Excellently written flashback jack!
This weapon was straight where its two siblings were curved. A steel blade rimmed with an icy material, fanning out at the tip like an arrow. The crossguard was like a crescent, decorated with gems of the same material as the blade’s rim. The hilt was wrapped in the finest leather, sure to remain comfortable and provide an excellent grip during even the most heated battle. A large blue gem helt blade and hilt together, with a smaller version as the pommel.
When Dumac unsheathed the blade, it hid in a mist of cold. Through the mist, he read the runes engraved into the blade.
,,Forgeheart. The sword of the northern ice. Not a bad name.” He muttered as he trailed the blade’s rim with a finger. He sheathed the sword at his side where it would remain till his death.
,,Alright, that wraps it up. Bring out the drinks!” He shouthed, signalling the beginning of the celebration.
Dwemer and Chimer mixed among each other, exchanging rumors and stories. Dumac met a man who was in a heated argument with a few smiths.
,,No no, if we combine the strengths of flesh with the metal power of a Centurion, we would be able to create the perfect being.” He argued. When he noticed the king looking at him, he moved closer.
,,Sotha Sil, at your service. Milord, may I inquire into the progress made on Pelinal? Just the curiosity of a scholar.” The man asked a bit blunt. Dumac grinned at that.
,,It’s doing great. We even managed to activate it last month though we had to make a few changes since then. The spirits of the Dremora made it a bit too violent for us to use. We need a protector, not a destroyer. We replaced the soul gems with empty ones while we’re looking for a better powersource.”
Outside, the first drops of water fell from the sky. It had begun to rain.
I arose out of a dark pit where the sun could not reach. I opened my eyes, expecting to see the plane of Oblivion. None of that. I was back in my room in Ebonheart, lying comfortably in my bed. I shook away the fog of sleep, wondering if it all had been a dream. Balmora, Fargoth, the Sixt House? Were they real? A single look at the other occupants of the room proved to me that it had been real, very real. For one thing, if Fargoth was just the result of my imagination, he wouldn’t be sitting there on a stool.
,,Now that we’re all back in the land of the living, it is time for me to start complaining. Just what were you doing? What happened to the concept of stealth? That Ro-El rushes in without thinking is something I’m willing to believe but you Fargoth, you should have known better.” Leroth was sitting on the other stool. A smile took the sharpness out of his words.
,,Sorry, master Leroth. So, what happened?” I asked with a tongue that was still numb. Fargoth took it upon him to answer.
,,As I told you before, I can kill anything with my bow if I have the right arrow. Now my problem was going in with just Chitin arrows so after you threw me my bow, I improvised with an enchanted mark ring on a stick. Needless to say, that Ascended Sleeper didn’t like having a ring stuck in its windpipe. That gave you the chance to end the fight and kill that creep. After you were knocked out, I recalled to the mark on my ring and annihilated the remaining Corprus stalkers before they could turn you into their punchingbag. We dragged you back to Ebonheart and well, here we are. Five days later.” The Bosmer shrugged. The most interesting part about his explanation were the names he’d used. Ascended Sleeper for the tentacled leader and Corprus Stalkers for its cursed slaves. I sat up straight and looked Fargoth in the eyes.
,,Zarador?” I asked seriously.
,,He’s alive. He’s bugging us constantly to fetch him Dwemer material to help him in fixing his Centurion. The thing got pretty banged up back there.” Fargoth replied, rolling his eyes at the same time.
,,Good, I also found something regarding Orvas Dren. Perhaps you could get Serius in here?”
Leroth shook his head.
,,We already emptied your pockets, he knows and is grateful for avenging his brother. Which also brings me to this.” The Bosmer stood up and retrieved a familiar blade from behind his back.
,,He wants you to keep the sword. Consider it yours now. I think it’s the perfect weapon for you as it is completely designed for people without the strength required to use a heavier weapon.” He dropped the sword into my lap. I looked at the Duke’s dragon on the hilt. It was a weapon capable of killing any supernatural creature, a weapon I would need in the time to come.
,,Give him my thanks once we’re done. In the meantime, I have a few things to say. You’ve read Ephraim’s letter?” I spoke and waited till the two Bosmer had nodded. I took a deep breath as I began.
,,I already knew of Pelinal before that letter. Pelinal is like a gigantic copy of that Dwemer armor they recently discovered in Cyrodiil. I know this because I’ve been having visions. In those visions, I inhabit a different body, people call me Dumac. I met Chimer, Dwemer, including Almalexia and Nerevar Indoril, the Nerevar Indoril. The Sixth House calls me the returned one and wants me death before I get the key that only I can wield, if that Ascended Sleeper was right. We had a short talk before it came down to violence. That key presumably controls Pelinal, wherever it is now. So….” I paused for a moment and read the same thought I’d been having in their face.
,,Am I some sort of reincarnation of Dumac like the Nerevarine is the reincarnation of Nerevar?”
The room was so silent you could hear the creaking of the ships down at the harbour.
,,I don’t know. The Nerevarine prophecies don’t talk about Dumac returning, nor about this Pelinal. In fact, till now this was all completely unknown. We can’t be sure that you’re Dumac returned. Still, that’s not important. What is important is that the Sixth House seems more interested in finding the key than finding Pelinal. Fargoth, get the message across to all agents that I want a meetin within seven days. Ro-El, you stay here and don’t leave the castle under any condition. The Sixth House has two ways to achieve its goal. Getting the key or killing you. So stay inside, for your own safety. That’s all, I have a lot of work to do.” The room had been emptied before I could say a single word of protest. I didn’t want to stay in my room and hide till it all blew over. I wanted to help.
,,Not that they’ll ever listen to me.” I grumbled and went back to sleep.
And now I present, Forgeheart! I think it could do with some more runes, there are some transparency glitches with the blue gems but other than that, I think it came out quite well.
(Edit: I played around a bit more and concluded that a grey blade looks better than Dwemer orange.)
OOhh! NICE Blade there, Jack!
**Sneaks into the Mournhold Museum of Artifacts at night in Dark Brotherhood Armor with Mission:Impossible Theme Music**
Forgeheart shall be mine!
Oh, and the story part was good too...I GUESS..
(Actually Jack, your writing really is getting progressively better and better, that fight scene in the Temple of Lore left me speechless, would that I could write fight scenes like that! I may be post machine, but your broad perspectives far outshine any other writer here I've seen. Keep it up, so that you may one day be a highly paid author!)
Mmmmm sexy sword ya got there Jack. I wish I was Dumac now ![]()
And yes, I too have noticed constant improvement in your writing, whether be the addition of more character developing moments, or a vivid battle scene. That update itself was an excellent example of that. The vision was wonderfully described and Ro-El coming to and feeling left out was great.
I have a feeling though that Ro-El isn't going to stick around in his room for too long. Though, I don't know whether he'll leave on his own or will be forced to. I can see both happening if ya ask me.
Heh, Forgeheart won't be in Mournhold, trust me. And Mallet, I think you should seriously reconsider that wish. Remember, Dumac died a violent death. Thanks for all the compliments. So here's a quickie.
Leroth made sure he kept me out of the whole thing. All agents were strictly ordered not to speak with me in case they would loose a shred of information which might have me chase it. I tried to listen in on their meeting but that didn’t work. In the end, the only thing I could do was hang around the castle while reading and trying to figure out how to make potions that didn’t explode in my face.
One of those days, ten days after regaining consciousness in fact, I was sitting in my room mindlessly playing with my sword’s sheath. The scenes I’d witnessed inside the Sixth House base played through my mind again. Ephraim, then the Corprus Stalkers, then the Ascended Sleeper telling me why they wanted me so badly. The fight, ending with the Sleeper’s death and me falling into a coma. I looked out of the window, watching a pair of Netch float by. I remembered how the Sixth House base had been just a stone’s throw away from the Imperial fort. If the Sixth house could keep an Imperial Legion away, then would they let Ebonheart’s elite garrison stop them? I seriously doubted it.
Last time, I’d survived through help and sheer luck. Both were bad guarantees for survival if I ever came face to face with and Ascended Sleeper again. I needed something better than mere luck. With the sword by my side, I went to the courtyard. I looked at the legionnaires who were busy practicing. My own memories at these practises weren’t nice ones. Serius had first insisted on making me wield a Claymore that was twice as long as I was tall. I never even managed to lift it out of the rack. After that fiasco, he’d chewed me out about not realizing what was possible and what was not. Since then, I’d never returned to the courtyard for training in swordplay. Still, Serius was the man I needed.
He was in a corner, silently mutilating a training dummy with his broadsword. When he noticed me, he stopped and gave me a silent nod. It was probably the first sign of respect he’d ever given to me.
,,What do you want?” His voice hadn’t changed though. I unsheathed my sword which till shortly belonged to the man’s brother.
,,Teach me.”
There was a silence for a moment. Then, Serius called out to one of the few legionnaires who weren’t doing anything.
,,Go and fetch me my rapier from the barracks.” We waited for a few minutes till the legionnaire returned with my sword’s near identical copy.
,,I haven’t used a rapier in a while now, so I’m probably a bit rusty.” Serius admitted as he wrapped the thin blade inside cloth. I did the same with mine.
,,I’m more rusty than you are.” I replied which actually managed to make Serius give something that resembled a smile.
,,You remind me of him. Ephraim I mean. You both are as persistent as a Cliffracer. And you’re both as hotheaded. Now, the rapier is a weapon where you need to use your brains. It is meant for precision. You want intimidating force? Use a big piece of Iron like a Warhammer or a Claymore. Broadswords are for general use, the katanas and Wakizashi are for grace. The rapier, is for precision.” Serius stated as he raised his sword’s tip. The legionnaires formed a circle around us, eager to watch the use of this rare weapon.
,,Defense come before offence. Don’t attack if it means dropping your defense. Slashes are good to wear down the enemy. Don’t try to use a slash to end a battle unless you have a clean shot at a vital part like the throat. Rather, aim for a single pierce to the heart. Don’t try to defeat armour. Aim at the gaps instead. Or alternatively, you could try and cut the framework holding the armour together so it falls off in pieces. That’s only something to try when you’re a master though.”
Like lightning coming from a clear sky, he dashed forward with a stab to the heart as he’d explained. Despite my surprise, I jumped away so it struck my side in a glancing blow instead. The cloth wrapped around the blade prevented any injury.
,,And most important of all, use your brains. Analyze your opponent, know his move before he does. Listening to me talking is fine but you should also watch me, observe the muscles moving underneath the skin. See how these muscles make me move. A single twitch of a finger could mean the difference between a high or a low stab.” Serius warned me. He dashed forward again. This time though, I was prepared and parried the strike. Our blades locked, turning it into a contest of strength. Unsurprisingly, Serius pushed my blade away and finished his strike.
,,When the blades lock, disengage from the lock and counter. Try to avoid a lock though as it is not the position you want to be in. Dodging comes before parrying, parrying before blocking. Never block. A heavier weapon can not be stopped by a block, it can only be redirected through a parry.” As Serius continued to test me, my skills improved at an incredible pace. Either he was a good master, I was a good student or the rapier was simply my type of weapon. I personally believe it was the last option.
Fine! I wish I was Dumac, but not one destined to die!
Ha! Beat you at you're own game!
Nice use of explaining the use of rapiers. It felt instructional, but in a very good way. Keep it going man!
Dang, mallet. You just don't give up. And all that for a sword. Though I have to admit, I'm now torn between Chrysamere and Forgeheart. No, I must be loyal to the Paladin's blade. I must wield it against the evil that threatens Vvardenfell. I must, even when another sword tries to claim my heart.
(Too bad Oblivion doesn't have Chrysamere, or the Lord's mail. I'll miss those two when I get to play it.
)
When Serius was finally finished with me, I was exhausted. If this was his rapier skill when he was rusty, I couldn’t even imagine how dangerous he would be with his skill brought back to full. Maybe I was worried about nothing and Ebonheart castle was as safe as Vivec’s palace though speaking about that, we didn’t have a god in the throne room so maybe Ebonheart was not quite as safe as the palace.
I refreshed myself back at my room, changed into a set of clothes that wasn’t soaked with my own sweat and then proceed to wander around the castle. As I came by the painting of what I now recognized as Red Mountain, I got an idea. When no one was nearby, I slipped through and entered the familiar dark maze of hidden passages. Instead of going directly to Leroth’s place, I decided to actually explore a bit, something I hadn’t done before. I used the most simple method of exploration devised by mortals. Follow the wall at your right side.
As I moved further into unexplored territory, the tiny markings carved into the walls reflected that by turning into symbols I did not recognize. The air smelled different, faintly resembling the distinct scent of an ash storm. The sound of steel hammering on steel echoed through the tunnel. This brought back memories of golden forges, hot flames and fantastic tools worthy of gods being made. I stopped where I were. Those memories were not mine. More lingering thoughts of Dumac? Or some other Dwemer, or perhaps simply my imagination having gone out of control?
With a mental curse at all these confusing thoughts, I moved on towards the source of the sound and smell. Soon, the tunnel was bathed in a flickering light coming from a chamber whose door had been left open. I looked inside and saw a familiar Altmer in a blue robe working on his machine. It was the first time I saw him without his hat which normally covered his head. Zarador was bald.
,,Hand me that cog. The little one, about the size of a coin.” The mage ordered without even looking. I shrugged and put the cog in his outstretched hand. He quickly put it to use by pressing it somewhere inside Centurion.
,,No, it doesn’t belong there.” I suddenly spoke up. I looked as surprised as Zarador. Till now, I had absolutely no knowledge about the fine intricacies of Dwemer machines. Or so I thought. To hide my own surprise, I grabbed the cog out of his hand and pointed at the inscription on its surface.
,,See these markings here? This cog is part of the mechanism that enables the neck to move. Hold on, I’ll put it in the right spot.” I crouched in front of the Centurion and looked at its exposed skeleton. I soon noticed the right gap in the neck and inserted the cog. A few gentle taps with a hammer and the cog was secured into its proper position.
When I looked up again, Zarador was scratching the bald top of his head.
,,Wow, I guess the Bosmer wasn’t joking when he said you were a Dwemer. Funny, you don’t look like the ghosts I met in Dwemer forts.” He said with a peculiar trembling voice. I would later find out that he always spoke like that when he didn’t quite know what to think of something.
,,More like a reincarnation of a Dwemer. So, did Fargoth return to Seyda Neen? I haven’t seen him around in a while and no one wants to talk to me.” I replied. This caused more headscratching on Zarador’s part.
,,The little guy with the bow? Oh, he went back to Seyda Neen. Not for long. After selling his house, he moved on to the north. To Ghostgate. I don’t know what happened after that.”
I was a little bit worried. The small amount of information I managed to get through public channels, also known as asking the occasional traveller, told that the Sixth House main base was beyond Ghostgate. Still, Fargoth knew what he was doing. I was sure that he’d stocked up on silver arrows for his expedition. He would be fine. With that matter taken out of my system, I gave Centurion a closer look.
The machine had been beaten up pretty badly. Both the outside and the inside was a mess. Joints were smashed, plates were torn, vital parts were missing. To make matters worse, it turned out that Zarador’s work on the machine was horrible. Tiny, handmade parts had been forcibly pushed into the wrong place, simple ropes replaced steel wires, what looked like the remains of someone’s meal was smeared all over. In short, there was no chance in Oblivion it could be fixed. Not without a proper supply of the right parts.
,,Lies! You dare doubt my wisdom, my knowledge? I’ve studied the Dwemer longer than you have lived! No one knows more about them than me!” The Altmer objected when I presented my findings to him.
,,I am a Dwemer, remember? Who knows better than the one who built it?” I countered with a slight grin. Zarador mumbled some more complaints but he couldn’t find anything against the point I’d made.
,,Fine, you’re the expert. What do you need?” He asked after a long silence. I shrugged at hearing the question. So far, my Dwemer memories required an external trigger.
,,I’ll know when I see the right parts.”
,,What?! You expect me to bring a whole Dwemer fort with me just so you can look for the parts you need to fix your Centurion? How am I going to do that, put it in the pocket of my robe perhaps?” I rose an eyebrow. My Centurion? Zarador was clearly shoving his responsibility away. Now I would be the one to blame if anything went wrong.
,,Then find a way. It’s not my problem because it is not my Centurion. Have a nice day.” I told him in a decisive tone and left before the Altmer could go any further. I would not use my heritage just to clean up the mess he’d made. Even if a Centurion was a fearsome foe in combat, it was not my problem.
I froze in the tunnel for the second time. Fearsome foe in combat? Any assault on the Sixth House’s main base would be troubled thanks to the eternal Ash storm, not to mention the ranks of Sixth House minions. Even the Houses, with their armour that was adapted specifically for these harsh conditions, would rather not seek battle in that weather. Dwemer Centurions on the other hand, as long as their armoured shell was properly sealed, could function in even the worst Ash storm as if it was a clear day. Vvardenfell was littered with ruins, each protected by these metal guardians. A whole potential army, just waiting to be used. I shook my head hard and called myself an idiot. No one could command the Centurions. This army was hostile towards anything that dared enter their home. It was no miracle really that no one looked towards the Dwemer artefacts as an army.
My growling stomach told me that it was time for diner. I would no longer worry about our current crisis till after I’d filled my stomach with some good food. A man must know his priorities. Hunger was more important than a long death Dwemer.
Hmm... Interesting update Jack. It seems Ro-El isn't requiring dreams to remember Dwemer knowledge anymore. Perhaps that's a good thing. I wait eagerly for more as always.
That night I was working on my studies. Specifically, geography. Leroth demanded that I knew every city on the island as well as the roads between them. That meant lots of information that I somehow had to cram inside my head. On top of that, I was also supposed to learn all the possible locations for shelter in case I got stuck in Vvardenfell’s infamous bad weather. Just hopping into the nearest cave wasn’t an option. The current inhabitants rarely welcomed visitors. When the sun sank into the sea, I lit a candle to replace the lost light.
It was deep into the night when someone knocked on the door. Without an idea of who to expect this late, I was a bit suspicious. Those suspicions faded when I met my visitor. It was Goran Dhemit, Ebonheart’s cook. While we rarely spoke, I did make sure to leave a compliment regarding his excellent cooking whenever possible. It was thanks to him that the meals at the castle were attended by just about everyone who could find a half-decent excuse to join.
,,Hello, sir Dhemit. What can I do for you, this late?” I asked him as I allowed the aging Dunmer to enter. His eyes swept across the room like a caged animal, resting on the slavebracers adorning the wall for a moment before moving on.
,,I don’t know. Look, I’ve been having bad dreams lately. I don’t think you should stay here.” He started. His voice was a panicked whisper, an attempt to bring out his message before whatever frightened him so much would rob him of his tongue. His hands were trembling.
,,What kind of dreams?” I inquired as I sat down on my bed. Most Dunmer saw dreams as little more than superstition but I’d since learned that dreams could be important. They often held important information the waking mind would not notice.
,,There’s this man, wearing a golden mask. He speaks to me, brings me the sweetest promises if I just do a small favour for him. I don’t know, that favour is not small to me. You see, he wants me to betr……” His mouth clamped shut. The trembling of his hands had now taken over his entire body. His mouth opened again but the words that came out were not his.
,,The Sixth House shall rise and all outlanders will flee before its glory!” The cook shouted and lunged at me with his fists.
Without a word or any effort, I parried his blows and delivered my own attack that sent him sprawling on the floor. Thanks to Leroth’s training, I could react to a dangerous situation far faster than most people, acting before my mind had even realized the threat and thought of a countermeasure. When I knew what was happening, Dhemit was already on the floor, half-unconscious and bleeding from a broken nose. I forced myself to stand perfectly still so I wouldn’t accidentally kill the old man. Yes, he’d just attacked me but I somehow knew that he didn’t plan to. Someone, or something, had taken control over him. That something might be nearby.
The candle on my desk flickered for a brief moment. I ducked down and reached for my sword below the bed. When I rose, the stars in the sky were blocked out by a black creature climbing through my window.
,,Slashes are good to wear down the enemy.”
I slashed across the thing’s face, expecting a scream, a hiss, anything. Nothing happened. The creature only seemed to move faster, not showing any positive effect from the wound. Its hand glowed with Magicka and a pulse caught me in the side. Instantly, I felt tired as if I’d ran a marathon. The creature’s hand glowed as it prepared another spell, a lethal one this time. I would not be able to escape. I had to do something, fast.
The eerie light of the spell reflected on the shining surface of my slavebracers. Acting on a flash of inspiration, I snatched one of the bracers from the wall and threw it at my foe just as he was about to fire his spell. During the brief contact, the bracer’s wellknown draining properties were unable to fully sap its ability at using Magicka. Yet, this contact was enough to cause a disruption and make the spell dissipate harmlessly.
,,aim for a single pierce to the heart.”
While the dark creature was still surprised by the failure of its spell, I did just as Serius had taught me, and something more. My rapier penetrated the chest where a mortal’s heart would be while my boot slammed into its already wounded face. The thing flew out through the window and fell down to its death on the stones below. I nearly joined its fate but a strong hand grabbed me and pulled me back inside before it was too late. Dhemit had saved the life he’d tried to end a moment earlier.
We looked at each other, not saying a word.
,,So, feeling better now?” I finally spoke up, pointing at the open window which had been occupied by the creature, whatever it was. Dhemit nodded.
,,A little. I’m sorry, sir Frost. I just don’t know why I did that. Would you be willing to accept an old man’s apology?” The cook asked with a voice that was much stronger than the one he’d used when he entered my room.
,,Don’t worry about that. You saved my life so I’d say that we’re even……Say, have you received any ash statues lately?”
Dhemit seemed surprised by my question. I couldn’t blame him. To a casual observer, the statues and the creature were completely unrelated. I was not a casual observer though. First, a cook who already served the Duke when said Duke was still wearing diapers, attacked me. One moment later, some humanoid creature tried to take advantage of the distraction and kill me through Magicka. The timing between the two events was simply too perfect to ignore.
,,Well um, yes I have. About a month ago. Strange, that’s also when the dreams started.” The Dunmer’s eyes widened as he now also saw the connection.
,,Destroy it. No, tell someone else to destroy it. You’ve been effected by it for too long to destroy it yourself.” I ordered him and walked back to the window.
I carefully glanced down in case the creature had survived the fall. At first, I couldn’t see it anywhere which caused some worry. Then though, I noticed a blackened patch of what looked like ash. Were those the thing’s remains? Two guards bearing torches stood around it.
,,Don’t touch that! I’ll be down soon! Get someone to drag the Duke and Leroth out of his bed. It’s urgent!” I shouted down and quickly dove into my closet to put on some warmer clothes. With all the excitement, I hadn’t noticed the cold breeze.
,,You know what to do, sir Dhemit. I suggest you do it as soon as possible. And find a healer, please. I think I broke your nose.”
That was rather nasty of the Sixth House... it's a good thing Ro-El is alert.
Nicely done.
Yes, it certainly seems the Sixth House is getting more aggressive in their attempts to finish off Ro-El. It would be best for him to keep on his toes from now on. Or else he'll pay the consequence. That consequence, DEATH!!!
Muahahaha! *cough* Sorry.
Ehh what they just said...really great job Jack!...More please?
Dang, I wasn't planning on updating today. But since you all are eagerly waiting for one, here it is.
Within minutes, the courtyard was flooded with just about everyone who was awake and not stuck with patrolling a different section of Ebonheart. The Duke was among the last to arrive, dressed up like the noble he was. I didn’t envy him. This constant looking after your reputation would give me a headache. I always wore exactly the same blue clothes. I had like five sets of them. The Duke on the other hand had a closet the size of my room filled with nothing but varying clothes for all kinds of different purposes. He also had a professional clothing expert.
,,What’s going on here?” He asked with a stern voice that still hinted at the sleep he enjoyed till the guard burst into his room. I looked around at the gathered crowd.
,,Everybody leave please. Except you, you, you and of course the Duke.” I told the staring faces. A bit disappointed, they all left. I bet they were hoping for something exciting to breach the monotony of the night. I would love to have the monotony back in my night. I said nothing till they’d all left.
,,That patch of ash over there is what I believe to be some sort of humanoid Sixth House construct sent to kill me. More accurately, the remains of a Sixth House construct.” My words lacked any subtlety which managed to get the message across quite nicely.
Leroth was the first to bend down near the black substance and touch it with a finger.
,,It looks just like normal ash to me. The kind you can find in an ash storm. Are you sure these are its remains?” Leroth seemed unconvinced. At least he believed me about the attack. I shrugged.
,,Well, I wasn’t staring out of the window when it hit the ground but that ash wasn’t there before it came in through the window. So it feels like the logical conclusion. I think I have to thank Demith though. Just because that thing used the cook as a distraction I was all pumped up and alert. If Dhemit hadn’t tried to kill me a few seconds earlier, that thing would have killed me without me noticing a thing.”
The Duke now snapped to attention.
,,Dhemit tried to kill you? I don’t believe it. He is one of the most honest and friendliest men I’ve ever had the honour of meeting.” He blurted out, forgetting about the required noble accent for a moment. Not that it mattered. Those who were still around would not hold it against him.
,,No need to blame him or punish him or whatever. Apparently, the statues have spread beyond Ald-ruhn. Dhemit received one of those about a month ago. I suggest we should get a public notice out regarding this. Those statues have become too much of a plague to control. If we just tell the people that those statues represent a health hazard due to contact with some diseased animals or something, I’m sure we should be able to keep the situation on a tight leash. For a while, that is.” I explained before anyone could draw a faulty conclusion.
We all looked at the patch of ash silently. Leroth had claimed that the ash was exactly like the one found in your average ash storm. Just the thought of ash storms changing into armies of evil creatures made a cold shiver run down my spine. The Sixth House’s army was like the ultimate guerrilla force. No matter how locked up the enemy was, they could always sneak in a few assassins. It was a frightening idea, to say the least.
,,Ro-El, they’re clearly after you.” Serius noted. The man had warmed up considerably. What I first saw as mere grumpiness was because he worried about me.
,,I don’t get it though. Why me? I mean, the Nerevarine is prophesized to destroy the Sixth House. I’m just a Nord who might be the reincarnated Dwemer king. I’m not really a threat to them. If they were really serious about it, they could crush me within a heartbeat. Why all this playing around, why do they give me a chance to survive?” I complained to no one in particular. The whole situation had given me a great deal of frustration.
,,The Nerevarine is a powerful man, both a great warrior and a great mage. His tools are legendaric and equally powerful as the man. Yet, despite all that, he is still mortal. Dagoth Ur, the leader of the Sixth House is, according to everything we know, immortal. In a battle, the mortal will always lose. I don’t know how the Nerevarine is supposed to break this rule but I do know this. The only thing the Sixth House truly fears is the intervention of another god. Pelinal is such a god, a god born of steel who has claimed victory over what was always believed to be an invincible weapon as powerful as the Tribunal. You are the only person who can bring Pelinal back from its slumber and make it challenge the Sixth House.” The Duke answered solemnly.
,,Perhaps this is how the Nerevarine is destined to vanquish Dagoth Ur. If all of the devil’s attention is focussed on you, he might underestimate the actions of a single mortal. Ro-El Frost, you are hereby authorized to use any means necessary to recover Pelinal. I want you to follow in Dumac’s footsteps, find out what he did, how he lived, how he died. You are the key to Dumac, who is the key to Pelinal. With Pelinal in our possession, we will have two aces up our sleeves. The Nerevarine and the Shield of Resdayn. The holy vanquisher of evil and the great protector. You are now dismissed, make any preparations you need for your quest.” The Duke continued, a passion I hadn’t heard before echoing in his voice. I now knew that this man believed in me. He believed in a child to save his land. It was a sobering thought.
I returned to my room and packed everything I felt was needed. A portable repair kit for my rapier, the rapier itself, lockpicks, probes, maps, a few potions, a small alchemy kit, money and paper for writing notes. I then went for the man who could help me chasing my first clue. Zarador.
,,What? You want to go to that Dwemer ruin near Balmora and that cave where we all nearly got killed? Clearly my young friend, the heat of the bright days here must have clouded your mind. And leaving at night, you might get lost.” The Altmer argued when I dragged him out of his bed.
,,This is no joke, Zarador of the Steel Tower. I’ll fix your Centurion for you but I need your help. You look at Dwemer objects with a scholar’s eye. You can fill in the gaps I don’t remember.” I pleaded. If he didn’t want to come out of his free will, I would have to force him. Fortunately, I pushed just the right buttons.
,,Since you put it like that, I have no choice but to humbly accept your offer.” The Altmer said, making a bow.
And so the charge has been issued; Ro-El's quest begins!! And with the interesting companion, Zarador, no doubt! I see excellent things in the future of this story.
The tall man’s preparations took much longer than mine. He insisted on taking Centurion along which meant that I had to arrange a pack Guar. That took some time to we finally found a trader who was willing to sell his Guar ‘Rolly’ to us. Then of all things, it turned out that Rolly had a cold and needed to be taken to a healer before we could use it. When we finally got on the road, the sun was already looming over the horizon. I was beginning to hate this ‘quest’ already.
Zarador apparently shared none of my not so optimistic mood. He talked endlessly about his knowledge regarding the schools of Magicka, Argonian traditions, Dwemer constructs at which point he said the most blatant nonsense I’d ever heard and anything else he managed to pick as a subject. I wished my own ability at Magicka extended beyond storing and using other people’s spells. I would silence the Altmer instantly.
We did manage to keep a good pace though. Maybe because I really wanted to get to our destination and kept up a speed only slightly short of running. There were a few Nix-hounds to bother us and a pair of Cliffracers but nothing serious. The most amusing moment of our trip, the only amusing moment, was our encounter with a local bandit.
Nels Lendo was his name and thieving was his game. He suddenly jumped out from behind a rock when we were approaching Pelagiad.
,,Hello there, fellow travellers. My name is Nels Lendo. Perhaps you have heard of me? I tell you, Nels Lendo is not like all those other rogues, Nels Lendo is a civilized one. Now, if you would be so kind as to give Nels Lendo fifty septims, he will let you pass and you’ll never hear of him again.” He said in a cheery tone. People who referred to themselves in the third person where freaks in my book. Unless they were from Elsweyr or Argonia where people had a different opinion of their own identity. Since in those two provinces it was cultural, I had no problems with this way of speech. In the case of a native Dunmer? I had a big problem with it.
I pushed the Altmer away. I had no intention of leaving a black crisp on the road. Sure, Dunmer were resistant to fire but a big enough flame would still leaved a pile of ash. Nels Lendo was not evil enough to deserve this fate. He was just misled and needed to be led back on the straight path of the law. Preferably while receiving a couple of bruises somewhere in the process.
,,No money for you. Leave us and don’t ever try to rob people again, no matter how charming you believe you are.” I told him. The man frowned and his smile vanished.
,,Alas, I cannot. Unfortunately, I believe it must come to bloodshed then.” He spoke and drew a shortsword. Small flames travelled across the blade’s surface.
Zarador had stepped forward.
,,You do not understand who you are dealing with. I am Zarador, master of destruction. Yes, I can wipe your existence from this world with a mere flick of the wrist. And my companion here, Ro-El Frost may be young but he has all the experience of a true warrior. He has commanded armies into battle on the slopes of Red Mountain, he has fought and claimed victory against foes so terrible, your heart would freeze in fear at the mere mention of their name.” He said with his brilliant sense for drama. Really, if Zarador wanted to, he would be a great bard. I rolled my eyes though when he began about me.
,,Dumac was the armyleader, not me. And I also never fought any terrible foes.” I whispered to the Altmer as I pushed him back again.
,,Really? Now I do happen to know that these Dunmer are simply terrified about Corprus Stalkers, Ash slaves and Ascended Sleepers. You’ve killed all of those that crossed your path.” He replied, not lowering his voice at all. I gave him a stern face before turning to the bandit.
Nels Lendo had taken one step back and seemed less confident then before.
,,It appears that you do have some skill. Yet, my honour demands of me not to withdraw my challenge. Draw your weapon and let us fight as men.” He called out, raising his blade. I shook my head as one of my wicked grins formed on my face.
,,I walk a different path. Prepare yourself!” I said and launched myself up into the sky.
Nels pointed his sword at me, hoping I would land on top of it. Big mistake. I swung around, kicking his sword out of my way with one boot and landed the other right on his nose. With a loud crack, his nose broke and he fell on his back with blood streaming down his face. I was getting quite good at breaking noses. I didn’t gave him time to recover or get up but planted my foot on his wrist and took the sword away. I then stepped back and gave him some room to breath.
,,I hope this is a good lesson for you. Anyone else might have just killed you without giving you a fair chance. Now get out of our sight.”
That night, Zarador told the story for all to hear, arousing a few laughs. The hostess told me that Nels Lendo was a like a big child with silly ideas. He came to her tavern often so she was glad I did not kill him. I was glad myself as I didn’t like killing to be honest. While the stars travelled the sky outside, I entertained myself and the other patrons with a fine act of egg juggling. All in all, I’d say that the end of that day’s trip wasn’t that bad at all. It was certainly better than the start. Tomorrow though, we would arrive at Arkngthand. The fact that I could speak that name without any difficulty still came as a bit of a surprise. It was probably another piece of my Dwemer heritage. When Zarador attempted to speak the name, it sounded as if he was choking on something.
Note: Nels Lendo's quest takes an interesting twist if you play as a female. Ro-El isn't one though, so no 'I'd rather kiss Rolly over there' jokes.
Hehe, Nels is quite the character, I remember with my first character I ran into him a little bit too soon and he murdered me.
Great update buddy!
I rarely talk to random people on the road. If they don't attack me, I don't attack them. So my Redguard was somewhere around level 7 when we finally met....with a silver claymore.
I'd saved just before talking to him. The first time, I refused and pounded him into the ground. The second time, I paid him and got myself a useless trainer in Pelagiad. How nice. Anyway, update.
We set out again early in the morning. No bandits this time, though there was the lone encounter with a Kagouti which was soon promoted to fried Kagouti. Never mess with a mage who is eager to show off his skills. We came by the fort again and this time, we even encountered a few guards on the road. So it was only a small surprise when we were spoken to by a Legionnair while having lunch on an ancient bridge.
,,You two, who are you?” He said in a gruff manner that clearly showed who he believed to be in charge. Zarador was about to give one of his longwinded replies but I interrupted him.
,,This is Zarador of the Steel Tower. I’m Ro-El Frost. We’re just passing through.” I told the soldier who seemed unconvinced. In fact, he was gripping the hilt of his sword though he hadn’t drawn it yet.
,,That’s what they all say. It is my duty to keep these roads clean from any possible threat. So tell me why you’re here.” He demanded. I was unimpressed, especially now I knew what kind of cowards the guards truly were. When the Sixth House base was there, they all remained safely behind their own walls. Only after the threat had been taken care of by outsiders, did they go back to their patrolling. I bet that whenever they saw a bandit, they would rather hire a mercenary than get rid of the nuisance themselves.
,,Go back to your patrolling, soldier.” I told him simply.
With the hissing sound of a perfectly maintained blade, the man unsheathed his Broadsword.
,,I’ll tell you again. What is your purpose? Answer me now or I shall consider you two to be criminals and fulfil my duty.” He warned. Zarador finally had enough and paralyzed the man with a spell.
,,We could stand here and argue all day long. In the end though, that old fort is waiting for us. Stop standing there with your mouth open, Ro-El.”
The entrance to Arkngthand was less than a minute away. There came my first disappointment. The last time I passed the old fort, I wasn’t looking for a way in so I hadn’t noticed the big sphere covering the door.
,,Great, so now what? Are we supposed to simply blast a hole in that thing?” I muttered which brought a smug smile on Zarador’s face.
,,Look, our Dwemer doesn’t know what to do. Now allow a scholar to show you the mechanism behind this.” He said and pulled a nearby crank I’d ignored. Metal scraped against metal and the dome slowly split in two halves, revealing a Dwemer door.
,,That crank was placed here later. No self-respecting architect would block off the only entrance to a fort and then place the openingmechanism on the outside. It would defeat the whole purpose. So evidently, that sphere was to keep something inside, rather than outside.” I concluded.
The Dwemer door made an awful lot of noise. Evidently, it hadn’t been oiled since the Dwemer vanished. Unfortunately for us, that noise also alerted the fort’s current inhabitants. Small shapes whistled through the air. I ducked under the first one headed for me and jumped off the platform we were standing on, noticing that the object was a small dart as I passed. Zarador wasn’t so lucky and I heard the sound of his body hitting the floor. Any worries about the Altmer were forced out of my mind with the upcoming landing. I sank through my knees to bleed off the force of impact and turned my downward movement into a forward roll. A second later, I was back on my feet. Only to find myself surrounded by several very angry bandits.
,,Don’t move kid, unless you like getting holes.” Their leader told me. A dozen bandits wielding a variety of weapons stood around me. I would have to follow his orders, for now. I stood motionlessly as the leader shouted up towards the entrance.
,,That other guy, is he alive?”
,,Yes, the poison made him take a nice little nap.” A voice answered from above. I felt some relief knowing that the Altmer had cheated death again. Though how long could he keep cheating? And how long could I cheat death myself?
It seems that Ro-El always seem to run into pests. Pesty guards and now pesty bandits. I wonder how he'll escape from this ordeal.
Another short one. I bet you didn't see this one coming.
We glared at each other, trying to find our weaknesses. To an outsider, it didn’t look too good. He was a hulking mass of a Dunmer wearing battleworn Bonemold with a large Dwemer axe in his hands. Me, I was the smallest Nord ever seen, wearing nothing but my simple travelling clothes and with the rapier hanging from my belt. Unless I happened to be a powerful mage, which I definitely wasn’t, any battle would have me cut to pieces.
My eyes caught some more details, both of the man and of my surroundings. Starting with the surroundings, it was obvious that Arkngthand was even less than a shadow of its former glory. The pillars were rusted, the lights dim and part of the roof had come down. The doors looked like they were about to fall apart and even the two suits of Dwemer armour guarding said door looked as if they’d seen better days.
My Dwemer memories had been flowing back withing my mind almost constantly, ever since I entered the fort. Those were not suits of armour, the Dwemer never had any need for them. Why should they, when their Centurions were better warriors than any being of flesh and blood? They were Centurions themselves, fully humanoid ones and simply known as the type 1, albeit deactivated. Conceived to have the full flexibility of an organic warrior but with far greater strength. In the end, they offered neither. Slower and more bulky than a Spere centurion and less powerful than the gigantic Steam Centurion, they were about to be replaced by the newer type 2 when Red Mountain came.
The glaring contest had ended. The Dunmer pointed at one of his henchmen.
,,Take that little Scrib’s sword.” He barked. I did nothing and allowed the rapier to be taken. It was all part of my plan. Phase one of the plan unfolded as planned with the bandits all being rather surprised at seeing a silver blade being drawn rather than some crummy iron.
,,Give me that!” Their leader snatched the rapier out of his underling’s hands and tore off the leather I’d wrapped around the hilt. Phase two was completed as he stared in shock and fear at Ebonheart’s dragon engraved into the pommel.
,,Legion rule 04: Never let yourself be caught off guard!” With that bit of advise, I launched myself up and cracked his unprotected nose with a knee. His fingers loosened their grip and I retrieved my sword, giving him a quick stab in the wrist as a farewell gift. My kick knocked the Dunmer to the ground and allowed me to escape the encirclement. I headed straight for the two Centurions with their warhammers. I passed between them and then waited in front of the door. As I’d already expected, the bandits were in hot pursuit. I grinned and said a single word that hadn’t been heard for centuries. A word in a language that had been lost.
With a swift motion, the two Centurions swung their hammers, sending the two lead bandits flying and cracking a couple of ribs. The following bandits were knocked to the ground by their unfortunate companions, allowing the two Centurions to step in and end the whole battle with several swift motions. Outdated or not, the machines proved to be devastating when no one expected them to be active.
I gave them some more orders in the Dwemeric language and they took up position next to the leader. Being unable to give chase had saved his life. I walked up to the Dunmer and watched him hold his nose as he stared up at the two Centurions who simply stared back, as if they were silently challenging him to get up and fight.
,,Who are you?” He asked frightened. I leaned in close with a grin and gave him the answer.
,,Dumac Dwarfking. Now you and your friends were looting my property. May I remind you that both Imperial as Dunmeric laws are excessively strict regarding the theft of Dwemer artefacts?” With him immobilized, I could give his armour the examination it required and confirm my previous thoughts. What had first looked like battledamage was in fact the subtle removal of identifying marks. Unfortunately for him, Bonemold marks were not only unique in their shape but also in their placement.
,,Since you work for Orvas Dren, I believe it might be a wise idea if you gave him a message. Stay off of my lawn or you’ll be sorry. Signed, Dumac Dwarfking. Now get out of here.” I snapped and watched him go. Maybe it was a mistake, but minor servants like him rarely knew anything I could use. Besides, asking him more about Arkngthand was useless as well. If he couldn’t even recognize two fully functional Centurions, anything he could tell me was probably nonsense. After he’d vanished through the upper door, I turned back tot my new friends.
,,Go guard the door, but bring in the Guar first. I have a type 2 Centurion to fix. After that, I have an evil twin to hunt.” It was a bit annoying that they only took orders in Dwemeric. On the other hand, this flaw was also the only reason no one had managed to abuse them. So it was probably the best.
Notes: I plan on underlining the text whenever Ro-El speaks in Dwemeric/Dwemer/whatever it should be called. Also, why make the Morrowind Dwemer armour into Centurions? Well, there is the reason I already gave. Why would the Dwemer fight? They had a whole army of robots to do it. Besides, it does fit in with their obsession over machinery. It also makes the 'Trojan Horse' trick of the 'Chimervadimium(?)' more plausible. If no one knows that Dwemer are willing to fight themselves, then it is more likely that they never even think of the possibility of a Dwemer sitting in that thing.
The other reason is that the Dwemer armour in Oblivion differs too much from the Morrowind version. I heard that Morrowind's version is a pile of scrapmetal glued together by robbers, archeologists and other people who poke their nose in Dwemer ruins but that doesn't explain the appearance of Dwemer armour in untouched ruins. I figure that while turning them into Centurions would require internal mechanisms, any finder would probably rip out those mechanisms because no one knows how it works. So the armour we see in use by Bolvyn Venim's guards among others are simply the empty shells of stripped Centurions.
And for those who are wondering, I called Zarador's Centurion a type 2. So guess what, the type 2 looks like Oblivion's armour which I simply love from the screenshots. That helmet alone is wicked.
The type 2 is also a bit better in performance than the type 1.
I kinda always thought that "Type 1" referred to the Spider Centurions, but I could be wrong. I liked the little add on at the end of the update explaining why you did the underlining and creating "armor centurions".
Great update, with some nice crafty work as well. It's quite lucky of Ro-El to remember Dwermeric at the perfect moment to utilitze it. Cool to see someone actually commanding Dwemer machinations.
Umm, I do remember that either Trey, Serene, Telina or one of the other fanfic characters referred to the three known types of Centurions as 1, 2 and 3. This won't work for me though. I've got a lot more Centurion types planned, as you'll see. If I would identify each Centurion by a number, I might end up somewhere in the double digits!
Zarador took a while to wake up again. Once he did, he was clearly in a bad mood.
,,Show yourself, you mindless bandits! Show yourself so I can finish your miserable excuse for a life with my great powers!” He shouted as soon as he got up on his feet. I was sitting a bit further away, near the door, amidst a pile of Centurion bits.
,,They’re dead, old man.” I spoke without looking away from my task.
Zarador said nothing for a few seconds.
,,Well, that’s a good thing. My skill would be sorely wasted on them.” He said in a funny tone. He then noticed what I was doing.
,,My Centurion! What have you done to it?!” He shouted in a panic.
This time, I did look up.
,,I removed all the malfunctioning and damaged parts. A Carrier is out to fetch me the replacements.” I began to explain when the door noisily opened. In came a Dwemer Centurion of a kind that was rarely seen by people. That was to be expected, as combat was not part of its duties so it took cover when the bandits invaded as opposed to seeking conflict. Its six legs supported a spherical body with two heavy arms at the front and a pair of smaller arms hanging underneath its belly. The small ones were designed for the handling of small objects such as a coin or a mug. The large ones were meant for heavy lifting like it was doing right now. Two more of the Carrier Centurions followed, each holding a steel keg. They carefully put their cargo down and then waited in a corner of the large room for further orders.
,,Thank you. I want some maintenance done on the construction facilities. Fetch the Type 2 blueprints from the library and have Construction hall A configured for Type 2 construction. I want production of the Type 2 to be started as soon as possible in Construction hall A. As for their equipment, go for an even spread between Halberds and Crossbows.” I ordered the machines and opened the first keg.
,,What were you babbling all about? And I’ve never seen those before! What are they? Why do they follow your commands?” The scholar in Zarador awoke.
,,I was telling them to start production on the Type 2 Centurions. I plan on spreading the blueprints among the Dwemer factories and have them all produce as many of the Type 2s as possible. We’re going to need an army if we want to battle the Sixth house, I’m not going to rely on a single mythical Centurion.” I answered and retrieved a heavy machine from the first keg. I rotated it around in my hands till I found the Dwemeric inscription.
Type 2 main power unit. Expected lifetime: 5 years.
,,As for your other questions, those were Carrier Centurions. They’re the ones who do all the heavy lifting around here. Not all Centurions are built for battle after all. And they follow my orders because I can speak Dwemeric. That, and maybe me being Dumac has something to do with it. I bet that as the leader of the Dwemer, he could give orders to all Centurions.”
Zarador scratched his bald head.
,,That sounds like a logical assumption. Just one more question, what is a Type 2 and did you find out anything about the bandits?” He asked me. I grinned as I placed the power unit inside the Centurion’s chest and connected it to the actual skeleton that would move the machine.
,,Those are two questions but that’s ok. A Type 2 is just like your Centurion over here, only with the exact specifications of the blueprint as opposed to someone’s guess. It is a humanoid warrior and the Dwemer’s attempt at versatility. So unlike all the other combat-oriented Centurions, it doesn’t feature any integrated weapons. Nope, this one can and will wield any weapon you and I can hold in our hands. They’re probably the best thing we can get produced fast enough to make a difference in the upcoming battle. And the bandits? They worked for Orvas Dren.” The last words came out as a sigh. That man had allied himself against his own brother and on top of that, his allies were monsters that could have walked straight out of Oblivion.
I was convinced that as long as he lived, he would continue to cause trouble. What I had to do was to convince him otherwise. But how?
,,Orvas? That man is a disgrace for his people. Say, you can’t stomp on his house with Pelinal, can you?” Zarador wore a gleeful smile at his idea.
,,No, we first need to find Pelinal for that. And even then, Pelinal is useless without the key. Worst of all, I’ve put some Administrator Centurions on the job but they have yet to find any information regarding a key for big Centurions.”
I detached myself from the conversation and focussed fully on my repair job. It was a bit odd, considering that I could just wait a few hours and get myself a brand-new Centurion but I figured that I might as well spent my time for something useful. That, and Zarador’s Centurion had already shown the ability to understand Cyrodiilic. The solution lay in its brain which had been merged with a Soulgem. That would explain the machine’s rather eccentric behaviour. I decided to replace its brain with a standard one, even though Zarador wouldn’t appreciate losing control over his toy.
,,So there are no clues at all?” Zarador continued to press the subject.
,,None, now let me finish this.” I answered bluntly.
Fully repairing the Centurion took the rest of the day. Once it was fixed, I tried to activate the machine and carefully examined it for any flaws. There were none to be found. Satisfied, I had my belated diner. Zarador and I continued to discuss the whereabouts of the key. Zarador brought up an interesting theory, namely that the key might not be a key in the traditional sense. It could be something different, like a powersource. I remembered my vision in which Kagrenac complained about not having a useable powersource for Numidium. I ran to the library as fast as I could.
The library was a dimly lit room nearly as big as the entrance. Racks upon racks of scrolls, notes, books and other forms of recording filled it as far as the eye could see. Among them, dozens of the so-called Administrator Centurions moved about on their little wheels. Their body could extend to reach even the highest racks and the fingers of their delicate hands were coated in silk to prevent damage to the records. The most eye-catching feature were their heads, which contained at least a dozen eyes. I shuddered as I thought of the damage a single spark could do. An immeasurable amount of knowledge, all lost in the mistake of a single moment. I praised the Dwemer, who had thought about this as well and gave the administrators a closed system without any hot steam being shot out of their backs like the Spheres or the big Macewielders.
,,I want another search. Look for a power unit capable of powering a hypothetical Centurion of about two hundred metres in height.” I told the nearest Administrator that wasn’t busy. The Centurion rolled over to one of the racks and extended its body high above the ground. It withdrew a heavy book wrapped in black leather and flitted through the pages so fast that the moving paper was little more than a blur. After only a few seconds, it had moved through all the pages and carefully put the book back in the rack. It returned to me.
,,There is no information on a power unit that can meet those requirements. There are a total of 546 other potential sources of information on this subject. These sources will be examined immediately. The closest result is a power unit for a Centurion of about thirty metres in height. Any further requests?” It spoke with a mechanic voice. I shook my head. According to my visions, Pelinal was much bigger than thirty. A hundred metres was the bare minimum I was willing to consider.
,,Continue the search. I’ll be at the entrance to Arkngthand.”
I was about to leave the library when one of the other Administrators tried to gain my attention. I nodded for it to tell me what it had. I was hoping for information regarding the key’s location but I told myself not to get my hopes up. The Administrators had been searching the most obscure bits of information for hours with no results so far.
,,No information regarding the location of your key has been found. However, there is a known Centurion development facility located on a northern island. Your requested information might be found there.” It told me.
A Centurion development facility. This gave me hope. If there was any place that had information on oversized Centurions, it had to be there. But how to get there? Fortunately, Dumac’s memories came to my aid once more.
,,Prepare a map with the location of this facility. I also want to know the current location of the Cloudcleaver. You know where to find me.”
I walked out of the library and back to the entrance where Zarador was trying to start a conversation with the two Type 1s who had killed the bandits earlier. The two machines completely ignored the Altmer as I’d told them to. Having Zarador identified as a friend was one of the first things I did here.
,,I want twenty Type 2s, ten spheres, five Macewielders and two Wings to accompany us when we leave. Outfit the Type 2s with Halberds. I also want to take forty Spiders and ten Administrators. Replace the lost Centurions as soon as possible. Furthermore, I want to send a Wing Centurion to all known factories. Have it carry a copy of the Type 2 blueprints and deliver the order to start production of Type 2s till the force defending the factories has been at least tripled. Now get going.” The Two Centurions marched off as I sat down next to the perplexed Zarador.
,,Where are they going?” He asked me, scratching his bald head as usual.
,,To make a few arrangements.”
Edit: I forgot to explain something. In the update, Ro-El gives orders to what might seem to be the wrong Centurions. For example, he tells a carrier to go fetch a set of blueprints from the library. This is the job of an Administrator. So why did Ro-El do this? Surely he knows what the Carrier's job is. The answer is simple and it sounds like a good assumption. The Centurions can communicate with one another, even those that are not capable of Dwemeric speech. So the Carrier went to an Administrator which gave it a copy of the blueprints. I hope this cleared it up.
I'm enjoying all these new Dwemer contraptions you're creating. Rather interesting stuff, though they must hid really, really well to not be found by those exploring the ruins.
I'm also curious in seeing if any Dwemer spirits are going to showup in this story. Since Ro-El knows Dwemeric, he should be able to communicate with them.
They'll show up, soon. First though, it is about time that Ro-El goes pay a visit to the evil twin. Preferably on the back of a very stylish horse.
Hmm, with all the Dwemer machines I'm constructing, it seems extremely unlikely that the Chimer could ever win the war. Unless they had some dirty 'Centurion deactivation' tricks. Perhaps spies with authority over the Centurions? Anyway, update.
The next morning, I was quite pleased with myself. When I’d given my orders, I had not truly realized just how big the group of Centurions was. If I felt for some conquest, I could easily take on the neighbouring fort Moonmoth. Fortunately for the Legionnaires, conquest was not part of my plans.
Zarador was running among the group of machines like a child who has been dumped in a huge pile of toys.
,,Look at all these Type 2s! Were they all made this night?” He exclaimed, peering into the ‘eyes’ of one of the Centurions. I wore a rather proud grin while I answered his question.
,,Of course they were. This is Arkngthand after all. Those miserable bandits failed to find the elevator leading to the area where the real stuff is hidden. There are three construction halls, which I’ve labelled A to C. The Type 2s were all built by hall A, so that should give you an idea of just how big even one of the halls is.”
Zarador brushed a speck of dust from a Centurion’s kneecap.
,,Say, where is my Type 2?” He now asked.
,,The one who follows your orders I suppose.” I answered with a shrug. The mage tried it out, but none of the machines listened.
,,Hmm, must have gone down to this construction hall of yours for maintenance.” He muttered slightly discontent, stroking his beard.
,,Maybe. Anyway, the Cloudcleaver is likely in need of some repairs so I’ll send this group out to its current location. While they’re busy, we can go visit Dren and tell him to stay out of my business.”
As one, the Centurions marched out of the door and down the path. Zarador and I ascended one of Arkngthand’s towers and looked out over the West Gash from a balcony. Balmora and the Odai glittered in the distance. The force of Centurions marching north looked like a golden mantle spread over the ash. I had to force back a chuckle as I thought of the panic they would cause to anyone who happened to see them. I could already see that even the Cliffracers, who were normally aggressive to the extreme, kept their distance.
I looked behind me into the tower. Zarador was standing with his back against the wall, inspecting the floating Centurion that had ascended up through the shaft leading down into the Dwemer fort. I walked inside and inspected the Centurion myself. I already knew it from my memories, but seeing a real one was quite different.
The Wing Centurion looked like a male Netch coated in steel armour, though lacking the tentacles. An integrated crossbow was placed at the front, only a tube the bolt would exit from marked its location. Near the end, it featured two rotating pods equipped with a fan which were used for pushing it through the air.
,,And this, is our ride.” I told Zarador. Instantly, the old man’s face went pale.
,,You’re kidding me. You want us to fly on that thing? How are we going to do that?” He stammered, struck with fear.
,,Simple, hop on top and grab the handholds. Have you ever rode a horse?” I laughed. Zarador shook his head.
,,Neither do I. It should be fun.”
After a lot of persuasion, I managed to get Zarador on top of the Wing. I followed suit and took up the front position. There, I pressed a concealed button and watched how two levers and a small panel with buttons appeared. Since flying through the air at high speed could make talking troublesome, the Wing included a manual set of controls. I gripped the two levers and slowly pushed the left one forward. With a slight shudder and a bit hesitantly, the Wing flew out of the tower.
I took the first half of an hour to practise with the machine. Perhaps I should have done it earlier, but my combination of reflexes, quick learning and some memories turned me into a capable pilot soon enough.
,,I can’t wait to see the surprise on Orvas’ face when we swoop in on this thing!” I shouted over the winds as we raced towards the Dunmer’s plantation at speeds no bird could match.
,,If it is so fast, then why don’t we just go to that research facility far up north with it?!” Zarador shouted back. Since he was stuck staring at my back, he could not see the slightly maniacal grin.
,,You want to sit on this thing all day? My behind would be all sore in the end. Not to mention, I want to get to the island in style, riding on Dumac’s luxurious airship! Now be quiet, I think I can see lake Amaya!”
Well, it looks like Orvas will be getting a rude awakening once Ro-El arrives. I figure his first reaction will go along the lines of "What the [explentive]!?".
I found the decription of the wing centurion to be quite creative, a realistic since it's based off a native Morrowind creature. I found that really cool.
Rude awakenings? Maybe yes, maybe no. Just read on.
We were hovering high above the ground. Even if the guards somehow felt it necessary to look up, they would only find a tiny black spot in front of the moons. The Wing bobbed up and down gently, its fans whispering as it kept itself stable.
,,Now I remember. I’ve felt a presence similar to this when I last visited Cyrodiil. It was in a shrine of the Nine Divines, I believe.” Zarador mumbled, actually stroking his beard again. His fear of falling had almost completely vanished. I looked down on the plantation and counted the moving torches. There were about a dozen. More than I’d expected. I closed my eyes for a moment as I struggled with an internal conflict. Slavers, I had no love for them. Part of me wanted to simply barge in and stab them in their rotten heart. The other part told me that it was suicide, even with the element of surprise and a powerful mage at my side.
,,I’ve felt this too, in Ald-ruhn. A Redguard who claims to be the Nerevarine. I wonder what he’s doing here. Ah well, I’ll find out soon enough.”
I brought the wing back around and landed it behind a hill. I whispered a few words to the machine before dismounting.
,,Ok, here’s the plan. I want you to stay behind and watch for any trouble. If you see that I do get into trouble, say the following to the Wing.” I told Zarador and whispered the command in his ear.
,,So I should say….” I quickly covered his mouth with my hand.
,,Not now. The moment you say it, that thing is going to barge down the hills and drive a bolt through every guard it sees.”
I made sure my rapier was secured and wouldn’t make any noise before descending the hill. I deliberately moved along slowly, crawling on all fours. I avoided the gate and instead chose to mover around the east side of the wall surrounding the plantation. Till now, no one had even a clue that I was nearby.
I was hoping to catch Dren unaware, preferably while the monster in mortal form was sleeping in his bed. How wrong I was, to expect the Dunmer to be off-guard. If anything, the Nerevarine’s spirit should have been the sign that made me realize that Dren was definitely not sleeping. I’d seen the signs, I didn’t listen to what they said.
Once I’d figured I’d moved far enough, I invoked my special scroll of clinging and began to scale the wall. The moment I popped my head over the wall, I knew that this would not go as planned. This was just my luck, to climb the wall right where I’d end up next to the guard house. And to make matters worse, a guard was standing on the roof, with a torch, and two crimson eyes looking at my direction.
,,Who are you? A tourist? There’s nothing to see here. Now get out of here.” He snarled, fortunately keeping his voice down. I realized that I was dealing with a really dumb guard here. My opinion of my luck had changed drastically with that realization. I hopped over the wall and landed lightly next to him.
,,Beautiful weather, don’t you think?” I told him with my hands casually in my pockets. The guard finally noticed the weapon at my side and decided to get suspicious.
,,Don’t draw that sword if you want to live, kid!”
The ‘kid’ reward made me laugh on the inside. Somehow, this was one of the first things everyone said to me. Kid. If only they knew my true age. I bet they would be scared.
,,Just because I have a sword doesn’t mean I need it.” I answered casually and hit the guard against the helmet with a foot. He flew off the building, screaming till he hit the ground. There was a loud ‘ow’ when he landed. So much for a stealthy entrance.
I turned to the hills and gave Zarador a thumbs up to reassure him before he would intervene. My plan had fallen, but the drop had not been fatal. I dove into my collection of scrolls and produced two. A jumping scroll and an invisibility one. I invoked the jumping scroll first and had already begun my jump to the roof of Dren’s villa before I’d used the other. The guards all rushed into the guard house, probably with the plan of catching me on the roof. Too bad for them for they were moving towards the wrong roof.
Once they’d vanished from sight, I swung down through an open window and landed inside a dimly lit room. The silence was disturbing. I crouched down behind the cover of a plant. When my fingers touched the floor, I withdrew them instantly. I held up one of my hands in front of my face. My hand was covered in a warm liquid of a red colour that could mean only one thing. Blood.
My eyes trailed the path of blood on the floor till they reached the armoured Dunmer who lay against a rack. A few broken bottles of Mazte accompanied him. I needed no explanation this time to read the signs. Orvas Dren was death. And I bet the Nerevarine had something to do with it. I felt the cold touch of a blade on the back of my neck. My opinion of my luck had turned for the worse again.
,,Fancy meeting you here, kid.”
Hehe, neat. I all ready have a good idea of who has the blade against Ro-El's neck, but I'll keep my guess a secret. And it does certainly seem that Dren faced a rude awakening of some sort; just not from Ro-El.
I will wait eagerly for the next update Jack.
This is called retconning I believe. The original Luper story never made a mention of Ro-El anywhere. Then again, it also never went into great detail. For example, it told the whole Redoran Hortator meeting in a single sentence. Ah well, here's the latest.
I made a mental list of the situation. One, since I was inside the building it was impossible for me to warn Zarador which removed any possibility of having a spellhappy mage and a Dwemer machine coming to my aid. Two: The guards would likely try to inform Dren of the intruder unless he’d ordered them not to disturb him. Well, no one would disturb him now but that was not so important right now. Three, Dren only had a single wound in his chest right where the heart was located. To get there, the Nerevarine had to slice through an Orcish cuirass. The cuirass had a single clean cut where the blade entered. So the Nerevarine could cut through high-quality armour with ease. That did not reassure my unprotected neck. The only good thing had to be four. We were potential allies, if I could convince him of my point.
,,Luper Alkad, I presume?” I asked as politely as was possible while sitting on the floor in a pool of someone else’s blood with a sword against your neck.
,,Yeah. Why is that important to you? I’m quite convinced we haven’t met before. And even if we did, this is probably going to be the last time. If you thought you could kill me, you’re wrong.” The man replied. Ok, so apparently he’d forgotten about me and now considered me an enemy. Not that nice to hear.
,,We did meet, in Ald-ruhn, during the meeting of the Redoran council. I don’t think it is quite necessary for you to knock off my head. I prefer to keep it where it is, thank you very much.”
To my relief, the Redguard withdrew his sword. I carefully got up from the floor and turned to face him.
,,Now I remember. You’re the kid with the cultist. Well, don’t look all that surprised. It’s hard enough to keep track of the people who are out to kill me. I can’t possibly worry about those who are not going to stick a sword into my back given half a chance.” If it was meant as an apology, it definitely did not sound like one.
,,Why did you kill Orvas Dren?” I asked him while I did my best to get rid of the blood. I didn’t had a lot of success with it. I hoped that Dumac’s airship contained a place where I could wash my clothes.
,,You mean the Dark Elf who’s soiling the floor over there? Nothing special. He was going through this dreadfully boring speech about how he was going to kill me for the greater glory of his lord and blablabla, more of that Guardung. I slipped a sword into his heart while he was working his tongue. I’m a busy guy, I don’t have time for speeches.” Alkad explained to me with a smug grin. I frowned. This was not the most likeable fellow.
,,There’s not much honour in killing people who are not ready to defend themselves.” I noted. In reality, I didn’t care though my Dumac side protested loudly. That same side had been protesting against my own questionable form of honour so I ignored it as always.
,,I’m a bigshot Telvanni. I don’t remember the word ‘honour’ being used in the Telvanni dictionary.” He quipped, still with that smug grin of his.
The grin faded as he looked down at the corpse.
,,Well, so much for that. I needed him to persuade his friends into naming me Hortator. Oh boy, mommy is going to be pissed. Yup, add an angry Daedra to my list of enemies. If things keep going like this, I should build a waiting room back at my mushroom.” He noted grimly. This was a side to the man that seemed to be the complete opposite of his earlier personality.
,,You could claim it was an accident.” I said with a shrug.
,,Accidents normally don’t tear through Orcish armour as if through paper. They usually miss vital organs as well.”
,,Well…” I began but cut myself off. Something had just materialized out of thin air. My reflexes took over and I withdrew a pair of throwing stars from my sleeves which I shot at the form. To my surprise, the form actually managed to dodge the point-blank attack.
,,Invisibility! Behind me!”
I went into a crouch while simultaneously dodging to my left and spinning around to face the second attacker. A Glass blade stabbed the air where I’d been a moment earlier. I sent a fist towards the second man’s face but just like his companion, he managed to dodge though to do that, he had to jump away which gave me a split second to look for the Nerevarine.
The Redguard had engaged the first assassin. Despite his heavy suit of armour, he moved as if he was wearing a suit of mere air. He parried a Glass dagger with his left hand and summoned a Daedric longsword with the other. I had no time to watch any further for the second assassin had come back to strike at me. He lunged out with his dagger, I moved around it and countered with a kick towards his knee. He stepped around the attack and struck out with his fist which I pushed away with my own hands. It was as if we were moving through water, each blow seemingly dodged or pushed aside with ease. Neither of us managed to hit. This Dunmer was as good at fighting unarmed as I was and his reflexes were at least as good, if not better, than mine.
We kept striking at each other yet somehow only managed to hit air. In the tense battle, I could not draw my rapier which gave him an unfair advantage with his dagger. I took a step back. Unexpected, the ground vanished below my feet. Before I could lose my balance, I’d jumped up and aimed a kick at his nose. Like with all previous attacks, my opponent dodged though this time he managed to slice through the upper skin of my leg. My leg went numb for a short moment but I’d absorbed the daggers power so fast, it seemed as if I’d never even been effected by it.
,,Paralysis. Not nice at all.” I noted to myself as I landed at the bottom of the stairs. We stared at each other across the distance. Both of us knew that he who moved first would have to lower his defence and likely forfeit his life. If the sound of blades clashing was any indication, the other battle was still in full swing.
I let my eyes wander across the environment, never loosing sight of the Dunmer I was up against. I was looking for something, anything that could give me the needed advantage. In the meantime, I unsheathed my rapier.
,,That sword! You’re with Vedam!” The Dunmer spat. So he had been involved with Ephraim. I noticed an open window. I quickly figured out where it was directed at and knew I’d found my advantage.
,,Shoot him!”
During the last moment of his life, he looked at me with a questioning expression, as if he was trying to make sense of my words. Then, he was thrown aside like a doll and pinned to the wall by a bolt the size of my lower arm. Leave it up to the Dwemer to built a weapon capable of shooting through windows from threehundred steps away. It made me wonder how the Chimer ever managed to hold on long enough during the war for Kagrenac’s betrayal.
While this was an interesting question, it was unimportant right now. I rushed up the stairs as the crackling of lightning and the loud boom of thunder roared through the building. Zarador had arrived at the scene and was now in the process of giving the guards outside a shocking experience. I got to the upper floor where the Nerevarine and the second assassin were still fighting. Wasting no time, I picked a fallen Dagger from the floor and hurled it at the Dunmer. Perhaps he’d heard my footsteps, perhaps he was warned by the whistling of moving air. Whatever was the case, he turned around just far enough to see the dagger that would enter his face. He’d dropped death within a heartbeat.
,,Well kid, you stole my fun for a bit but still, nice throw.” Alkad admitted reluctantly. I mimicked his own smug grin from earlier and looked out of the window. A bearded man stood on the grass below, waving at me.
,,Your machine suddenly went berserk so I thought, why not give them a display of my might? Now what are we going to do with our spoils of war?” Zarador shouted up.
I looked at the Nerevarine who shrugged.
,,Every time I kill someone, I get to keep their house. I can’t handle another one so it’s all yours as far as I’m concerned.” He said and walked downstairs. I looked around the room. It required some cleaning but in the end, not bad at all. I leaned out of the window and waved at Zarador.
,,This place needs to be renamed! How about Frost Plantation? Centurions can replace the slaves and we can send those poor people home with a nice bit of gold in their pockets! I’ve always dreamed of my own house. Heh, looks like reality turned out to be bigger than my dreams!” I laughed.
Great update Jack. It seems that an odd relationship is beginning to form between Luper and Ro-El; it'll be interesting to see if that develops further.
And the Dren Plantation is definitely a nice first house to own, complete with it's own daedric armour!
Daedric armour? Where? Not on Dren, I thought he was wearing Orcish though it has been a while. But yeah, it is a nice place. Big and with some farming to help make a living.
The remainder of that night went without any further incidents. Zarador and I relieved the slaves of their bracers after which we gave them the best meal they’d had in years. Amidst the commotion, the Nerevarine vanished. I kind of missed him since I had hoped to talk with him. Since my whole mission was basically a distraction, I would really like to know just how the Nerevarine was going to destroy the Sixth House. Now that he was gone though, there was nothing left for me to do but try out Dren’s bed.
No visions or dreams came to me during my sleep which did surprise me a bit. This surprise faded quickly, replaced by the worries of the day. The first thing I did was to unlock the little chest that had been tempting me all night sitting there on the rack all sparkling with the gems covering its surface. The expensive container did not disappoint. All it contained was a letter, an important letter. I let out a whistle once I’d finished reading its contents.
,,I believe I’ve said it before. What is it with all the bad people writing about their crimes and then storing the evidence in a location where I get my hands on it? At least this might reduce my punishment for killing the Duke’s own brother. We already knew that he was in league with the Sixth House but this, is pure treachery.”
I went upstairs and sat down at the table. I took a sheet of paper and the quill. While writing my own letter, I stabbed the quill in the direction of Orvas Dren’s corpse.
,,Killing your own blood. You should be ashamed of yourself.” I chastised the Dunmer and jumped up when a loud explosion occurred outside. I ran to the window and looked down at the crater Zarador had just made.
,,What are you doing?!” I shouted down. The mage looked at me, shrugged and went inside. A moment later, I could hear him ascend the stairs.
,,It appears that our enemies are quite capable of tracking you. I just removed one of those Ash zombies from existence.” He explained with an air of authority. He then noticed the sheet of paper lying on the table.
,,What’s that you’re writing? Making notes on your visions?” He asked me. I shook my head.
,,No, I’m actually explaining Orvas’ plan to kill his own brother if he continued to interfere as well as his allegiance with the assassins I took out last night. Judging by their weapons, I think they are the ones who ambushed Ephraim Serius. I also intend to include a formal request to turn Dren plantation into my base of operations after this crisis has been resolved.” I told him as I sat down again and continued where I left off.
,,As for my visions, nothing. It’s odd. Maybe I’ve already regained to much of Dumac’s memories? Right now, the visions seem to have been replaced by external stimulation. Seeing the Centurions for example made me remember the Dwemer language.”
The mage took off his hat and scratched his head.
,,Quite peculiar. Well, we have to get moving soon before more of those fiends come. Shall I send the slaves to Ebonheart?” He asked me. I sealed my letter in an envelope and also added Dren’s note. At the last moment, I decided to remove the Dunmer’s signature ring from his finger.
,,About that, I sent out the Wing. The rendez-vous with the Cloudcleaver has been changed. We’ll meet at lake Amaya instead of the Dwemer fort. It shouldn’t be that long of a walk. Well then, let’s go meet the former slaves.”
Outside, we greeted the grateful band of Khajiit and Argonians. Those who knew how to fight had taken up the guard’s weapons and armour. They would protect their brethren during their journey. A sandcoloured Khajiit bowed in front of me.
,,Greetings, friend. It’s been an honour to meet you. How can we ever repay you?” He spoke solemnly. It was as the bards told. Khajiit and Argonian were capable of unwavering loyalty to those they considered their friends. If I’d told them to storm Red Mountain, they would have done so happily. I didn’t ask them to storm anything. Instead, I pressed the envelope and the ring into the man’s paws.
,,You can repay me by living a happy life. I’d also like to ask you for a favour right now. Before you board the ship at Ebonheart, could you please deliver this letter to the Duke? If the guards stop you, show them this ring. I’m sure you know who that ring belongs to. They’ll surely let you pass then.”
The whole group of slaves bowed.
,,It would be my pleasure. Once more we thank you. May you walk warm sands.” With those words, we said goodbye and I watched how the former slaves left. Once they’d passed beyond the gates, Zarador and I left the plantation as well, in the opposite direction.
Two hours later, we were lingering at the beach. A few Mudcrabs were grazing in the distance and a Scrib had chosen to sit in my lap.
,,I’ve been thinking.” Zarador suddenly spoke up. I looked at him questioningly without saying a word.
,,If you’re Dumac, then how did you die? Tell me.” I don’t know how he did it, but the mage somehow managed to stir more memories awake. In effect, he’d just forced out a vision.
Well, I do know there are daedric greaves in Dren's plantation. Also a tower shield as well since one of the body guards carries it.
Anyways, this vision sounds like it's going to be a doosy since you're stopping the update here. I can't wait to see the likely demise of the original Dumac. Bravo for the this update sir!
I was sitting on a throne. Several Dwemer were gathered around me. Each and every one of them wore a unique set of armour, which revealed them to be generals in the Dwemer army. Being the ones who led the Centurions into battle, they were also the only Dwemer who knew how to fight.
,,Milord, the mountain has been surrounded, all escape routes have been blocked off. The Chimer number in the thousands. Men, women and even children have joined their crusade. We are outnumbered and will never be able to win this battle. We need the help of the shield, we need Pelinal. At your command, an elite team of warriors on Wings will perform a raid to retrieve the keys. With the keys, we can awaken its true potential and turn the tide in our favour.” One of them told me.
I shook my head forcibly.
,,No, Pelinal is not meant for this. It is meant to protect, not to destroy. And you know very well that any attempt to retrieve the two keys would be suicide. Tell everyone who is not fit for battle to seek refuge in the inner chamber where Numidium is kept. If needed, we can block off the opening with the steel god’s hand. Kagrenac told me he’d found and implemented a suitable powersource.” I told him and got up out of my throne. I walked towards a large table which carried a miniature representation of the island. Countless red figurines were arrayed around the miniature mountain.
,,Any news from the other settlements?” I asked though I already knew the answer.
,,None. The few scouts we managed to send out all told us the same thing. A complete annihilation of the inhabitants and the entrance sealed by a metal sphere they could not breach. Without the factories, we cannot build an army to match theirs.” One of the generals answered.
I felt tired from the endless bloodshed.
,,Nerevar is a charismatic leader, but he knows nothing about how to lead an army. This is the work of Vivec. I must admit that he knows our weakness. The Centurions do not see the Chimer as enemies. It was a simple matter of entering at night and slaying all the Dwemer in their sleep. By sealing the entrance, he has secured his rear for we cannot reach the Centurions and tell them about their new enemies.”
I looked at the miniatures again. The situation was indeed hopeless. One on one, the Centurions were a match for the average Chimer soldier and more than a match for the women and children who had joined the army. Against a veteran though, they had to rely on strength of numbers. A strength we had during the Northern invasion but a strength which we’d since lost. The first general interrupted my thinking.
,,Lord, please. Think about it. We need Pelinal not only to win, but to survive. Even with one key, it will be of great help.” He pleaded. I fingered the hilt of Forgeheart and shook my head again.
,,And destroy one race to save another? Then how would that make us any different? No, we’ll entrust the future of our children with those protected by Numidium. As for ourselves, we’ll fight with what we have, inside this fortress. Besides, Pelinal is unable to fight effectively with only its mobile aspect awake.” I looked up at the steel door that was the only access to the throne room.
,,Nerevar, why?” I whispered.
As one, the generals drew their weapons. Dwemer steel shone in the light cast by tubes mounted on the walls.
,,At this point, there is no further use for a detailed plan or for leaders. There’s only one entrance, only one path to take which is blocked by every single Centurion we have, even those who are not meant for combat. The Chimer’s only choice is to charge in with everything they have. The women and children are likely to stay behind as from what our scouts told us, they are tasked with sustaining the army. As for the men who will fight, the grunts and inexperienced ones will likely lead.” I frowned at the explanation. It was heartless, though in the end, it was the right choice. By sacrificing the inexperienced troops first, the greatest warriors could fight against the final opposition at their full strength.
I drew my own blade as well. I could feel the Forgeheart’s cold touch which made me shiver. For those on the wrong side of the blade, this bitter cold would be even worse.
,,It is time for this nightmare to end, though in which way, I do not know.”
For the next few hours, we waited in a nervous anticipation. We didn’t dare to open the door and see if the Chimer had already began but we also did not dare to relax. After three long hours had passed, the sounds of combat reached our ears. Clanging of metal on metal, the screams of the wounded. If possible, the next two hours were even worse than the first three. Indeed, the waiting is the hardest part of any battle. Finally, five hours after the battle had started, silence returned. We looked at each other uneasily. Had the Centurions claimed victory, or were the Chimer standing outside the door, waiting for someone foolish enough to open?
As we’d done up till now, we waited. Another hour passed. At last, the nerves of one of us cracked and he wandered to the door.
,,I think they’re gone.” He whispered. The others and I gestured wildly with our hands, telling him not to open the door. He did, and was promptly slain by a flaming sword. A sword I knew. Trueflame.
Note: There's something different with this vision when compared to the earlier ones. Can you find it?
Nerevar walked through the door, followed by four other Chimer. Three of them I knew. They were Vivec, Sotha Sil and Almalexia Indoril. The fourth one, I did not know. The generals moved up to meet them. There were four of them left. Each one matched blades with one of Nerevar’s aides. Unobstructed, he stepped past the battle and met me at the center of the hall.
,,It’s been a long time, Dumac.” He spoke, sadness in his voice.
,,I know. Yet somehow, I can’t help but wish it had been longer.” I replied with the same sadness. Forgeheart and Trueflame were raised up into the air. I noted to myself the irony of the whole thing. Trueflame, Hopesfire and Forgeheart. These three blades were forged as a sign of friendship. Now, they would serve to undo this friendship.
,,True. This peace should have lasted till long after our bodies had crumbled to dust in a tomb. It was not meant to be. Now, I must destroy you. I’m sorry, my friend.” Nerevar said and stepped forward. Trueflame came down in a flaming arc. I blocked the strike with Forgeheart, feeling the elemental power of fire and ice colliding and shattering into a wide wave that spread around us.
,,Likewise. My apologies.” I shouted over the howling of the two blades.
Again and again, the two swords met. Each time, their power would touch us in an embrace that both chilled and charred. With each strike, we weakened from the power our weapons contained. Nerevar was known rightfully as a great warrior among the Chimer, an expert in all weapons. He knew and used countless techniques that appeared impossible for a mortal to perform. I had been his most devoted student and he’d taught me everything about fighting with a sword. Together, we’d stood as an impenetrable wall of steel against the invaders. Gold and snow they called us, after the colour of our skin. During the final days of the war, just our appearance on the battlefield had been enough to make all but the strongest of heart flee. Now, we stood against each other and finally got to see our skill for ourselves.
We both disengaged from battle at the same time. My skin had been blackened by Trueflame’s fire and cracked by Forgeheart’s ice. Nerevar was not doing any better and his skin had lost its golden hue entirely. Around us, his four aides had formed a circle. My generals all lay on the floor in a pool of their own blood.
,,You don’t fight with all your strength, Dumac. Does the friendship we shared slow your blade?” Nerevar asked me.
,,Yes, it does. You have been holding back as well, my friend. Why?” I replied. Our swords pointed at the ground. A sign of our unwillingness to fight yet ready for it if needed.
Nerevar refused to look me in the eyes.
,,Voryn Dagoth here has told me. You are trying to turn yourselves into gods and rule not just Resdayn, but all of Nirn. He told me that if I did not stop you, all Chimer would be sacrificed for your immortality.” He explained, gesturing towards the Chimer whose name I did not know.
,,Preposterous! We would never! I’ve considered you to be my friend for as long as I live! Why would I try to destroy my friend?” I shouted angrily. Nerevar hung his head in shame.
,,Yes, you would. Isn’t it true that Kagrenac has experimented on the heart of a fallen god? Immortality is a great power. Power corrupts those who do not know how to handle it. Only those who are worthy should be allowed to wield this power.” Voryn interjected.
I glared at him.
,,Let me guess. You consider yourself worthy? If Kagrenac indeed wishes to become a god, it is my duty to stop him. My duty alone. Now tell me, where did you learn of this?” I demanded. Voryn sneered.
,,I do not have to tell you, Dumac. You’ve already failed to keep your priest under your control. He’s already made contact with those he deems worthy and revealed his plan to them.” My expression changed from one of anger to one of disbelief.
,,He contacted you, didn’t he? Now I see. Those who survive this war are worthy of becoming gods. Is that it? Is that why you strived to be the spark that ignited the flames of bloodshed? Let me tell you, immortality is something that is not given to us mortals with a reason! We are meant to live our lives during a limited timespan. Our souls simply cannot cope with eternity! We would be driven mad. And Kagrenac, has he tried his technique? Is he sure that this fool’s plan will work? Well, is he convinced it cannot fail?” As I continued to talk, I stepped closer and closer to the Chimer till I was staring him straight in the eyes.
He looked embarrassed.
,,You’re right. It is something we are not meant for. How could I have been so foolish?” He admitted. His eyes focussed, telling me that his resolve was now stronger than steel.
,,We must hurry, there is still time. The key to Kagrenac’s plan is Numidium. That is where he keeps Lorkhan’s heart hidden! If we stop him now, we may yet save our people of their eternal doom!” He claimed and moved towards the door at a quick pace. Nerevar and I looked at each other.
,,Let’s fight together once more, my friend.” He offered, holding out his hand. I gripped the hand firmly.
,,Yes, once more. For our people, for Resdayn!”
Wow, this vision is really cool. And I think the change you're hinting at is that the vision is now in first person rather than third as it previously was.
I'm enjoying your interpretation of the "final conflict". I can't wait to see this conclude.
Correct, first person. Let's just say that Ro-El has accepted his heritage now. Anyway, update time.
As we ran through the winding passages, I shed tears for the fallen we passed. Too many had died for this. My muscles ached from my duel with Nerevar. I knew that I could not fight with all my strength at this moment. We turned around a corner and skidded to a halt. In front of us, a Centurion of unknown design guarded the entrance to Numidium’s chamber. It was big, with heavy plates of armour covering every potential weakness. It had no weapons but it did not need any. The heavy weight of its hands was enough to crush flesh and bones.
,,Step aside and let us pass!” I ordered it. In response, the Centurion slammed its hands together, making the corridor tremble. I pointed Forgeheart at it.
,,Looks like it only listens to Kagrenac. Fine then, we’ll just have to go through it. Charge!”
We dashed forward as one. Vivec unleashed a barrage of spells to weaken its armour before we met. Voryn used his spear to leap high into the air and landed on the Centurion’s head. Standing on its shoulders, he began to stab at its skull, aiming from the brain inside. I ducked underneath a swinging hand and hammered away at the legs. At my first strike, a minor dent appeared. At my second, the dent tore open and exposed the internal mechanism. At the third and final hit, I severed the knee and sent the hulking beast to the floor. Even in this position, it continued to flail with its hands and I pinned one of them to the ground with Forgeheart.
The Centurion was an incredibly tough opponent, but too slow to truly pose a threat. Nerevar and I assisted each other, fighting as a pair as we struck at whatever weakness presented itself. Trueflame and Forgeheart bathed the thing in an elemental storm. Vivec and Sotha Sil stood behind us and flung spell after spell into the Centurion, adding to the damage while keeping it from regaining its balance. Finally, Voryn managed to penetrate the skull and shatter its brain. The silence after the battle felt strange.
The door was still closed yet this was no problem for us. As the king of the Dwemer, I had a key for every door in the complex, including this one. We stormed through and found ourselves standing on a ledge high above a pit of boiling magma. A winding path descended downwards to a platform where the Dwemer who had not fought in the battle were hiding. The room was dominated by Numidium, a great Centurion formed into the likeness of Kagrenac himself. Its chest area was open, revealing a strange stone with an aura that promised endless power. Kagrenac was standing in front of the heart.
,,Kagrenac, come down here!” I shouted at the old smith. The Dwemer laughed at me.
,,Do you truly believe that I would listen to you? You’ve come here to stop me, haven’t you? I won’t let you do that, Dumac.” He answered and struck the stone with the hammer he wielded in one hand. A loud chorus like the singing of birds echoed from the stone.
,,If you want to stop me, you must defeat a god!” With a loud hiss of escaping steam, the hatch covering the chest closed, sealing Kagrenac and the heart inside.
Suddenly, Numidium’s hand began to move, descending onto the ledge where we were standing.
,,Jump!” Nerevar shouted and flung himself over the edge, dragging his wife with him. The rest of us followed suit. Above us, the platform was shattered by Numidium’s hand. We aimed for the wall and tried to get a grip. A heavy rock the size of my head impacted with my shoulder, crushing part of my ribcage. I was about to fall but Vivec reached down and grabbed me. Together, we managed to reach the bottom of the chamber where the Dwemer were trying to keep as much distance to the Centurion as possible.
Vivec carefully lowered me to the ground. The pain of my wounds was nearly enough to kill me on its own. The pain numbed at the touch of the Chimer’s finger though he couldn’t repair the damage that had been done. From my current position, I saw how Numidium smashed a hole in the ceiling and dragged himself out of the mountain.
,,Curses! He’ll destroy everyone with that thing!” Voryn roared. Before the great Centurion vanished from our eyes, it turned around and looked down upon us.
,,I know you, Dumac. You’d rather die fighting than let me do as I please. Go ahead, try to awaken Pelinal. You’ll find that I’ve destroyed its powersource. Now it is nothing more than a statue!” Kagrenac’s voice was multiplied a thousand times in strength. Then, the machine left us.
,,Nerevar.” I whispered, straining my battered lungs. My old friend knelt down beside me.
,,Dumac is right. Without a suitable powersource, Pelinal is powerless.” I continued, coughing up a large amount of blood.
,,Don’t talk, my friend. We’ll stop him for you, no matter what it takes.” The Chimer warleader urged.
,,No, we’ve been blinded for too long. Numidium is not a normal Centurion, not powered by a mechanism of our own. It is powered by the heart of a god, by life, not by death steel. Pelinal will move even without a powersource, if we make the right sacrifice. I’ll be that sacrifice. Take me to it, you know where to go.” Darkness encroached upon the edges of my vision.
My wounds had numbed my senses and I lost consciousness multiple times as Nerevar carried me further through halls filled with magma. When we arrived at Pelinal’s location, Vivec’s powers were needed again to keep me alive. They took me to Pelinal’s head and lowered me into a throne located inside its head. Safe for the throne, the only features of the chamber where three slots arrayed around the throne.
,,Put Trueflame in the right slot, Hopesfire in the left” I instructed them. I did not know where my plan came from. It was as if someone else was hiding in the shadows, playing me like a puppet. Nerevar and his wife did as I’d told. Sotha Sil helped me lift my arm and place Forgeheart in the third and final slot.
,,Take my soul. I beg you, Shield of Resdayn. Take my soul and come to life!” I no longer had the strength to say a word so my request was only spoken as a thought.
I could feel my soul leaving my body. I willed my soul to move into Pelinal, to become its lifeblood. The god refused me somehow and I was cast back into my dying body. I could hear voices, vague as if they were speaking from the other side of a very large room.
,,We won’t stand by and watch how everyone is slaughtered by Numidium. This is our curse, we shall lift it by our own strength. Better for one race to die than for two. No more shall we be known as the Dwemer, a mortal race. We shall be known as the Centurion’s blood!” Once again, my soul left my body. I was swept along by a tidal wave of souls all trying to merge with the Centurion. Again, the barrier refused us but this time it collapsed under the combined strength of our souls.
Now we were in Pelinal. No, we were Pelinal. All our memories, our emotions, our very identity, it was all stripped away from us. Our souls became one featureless mass as silent as a frozen sea. From this mass, a single new soul rose up. The soul of Pelinal.
I opened my eyes slowly. The scene had changed since I’d closed them. The sun was about to make place for the night and a large Dwemer construct hovered above the lake. The airship had arrived. Zarador pulled me on to my feet and brushed the sand from my pants.
,,And after that? What happened after Pelinal’s awakening?” He asked. I shrugged.
,,Don’t ask me. Technically, I was death by then. The first memory after that is located in a babycrib somewhere on Soltstheim. All I know is from the information we’ve managed to gather. Pelinal trashed Numidium but suffered heavy damage in the process.”
We boarded the Cloudcleaver in silence. The army of Centurion’s I’d sent out to retrieve and repair the vehicle had all gathered on deck. I thanked them for their service and made the preparations for our trip to the northern island. Back to the place where Ro-El was born. Solstheim.
,,We now know more about the powersource though. Pelinal doesn’t have one. It is fuelled by the souls of the Dwemer who were at Red Mountain during the event. Just how my soul was separated and brought into a Nord’s body, I don’t know. I also did some research on the swords. Trueflame has been lost, broken according to some accounts. Hopesfire is still in Almalexia’s possession and Forgeheart is hidden somewhere. If we can find Forgeheart, retrieve Hopesfire and somehow find the current location of Pelinal, we can revive it with two of its three aspects.” I reasoned as we made ourselves comfortable on deck. Zarador looked towards the rear of the ship and pointed at Red Mountain.
,,We need to make haste, I’m afraid. It appears that the Sixth House no longer wishes to play with us.” I looked out towards Red Mountain as well. We could no longer see the actual mountain. It was hidden under a cloud of ash. And the cloud was moving parallel along our course. We were being followed.
Well, that's a different theory of the Dwemeri disappearance. But I like it, even if it does contradict all those other Red Mountain accounts. Heck, they all contradict each other (depending on who wrote it) so I hereby declare yours just as valid. Nicely done!
Wow, that vision was absolutely riveting! I loved it! Great work Jack; you've been constantly improving with each story you work on.
Looks like we have some goals to look forward to seeing now. Let's hope Ro-El pulls it off.
Yup, it's time for Ro-El to investigate his other side.
Fortunately, we soon found out that the ash storm moved only slightly faster than a running man. As things were, the Cloudcleaver could run circles around it. By the time we arrived, we would have a major headstart. We needed to take advantage of our headstart as much as was possible.
Zarador and I spent most of the trip belowdeck, looking over the hopelessly outdated maps of Solstheim.
,,The bad part is, that according to our map, the research facility is right underneath the lake.” I explained to the Altmer.
,,Lake? I don’t see a lake.” He replied with a light frown. I grabbed a pencil and began making crude marks to the map.
,,This here is lake Fjalding. My birthplace is around here, at the Skaal. They don’t like foreigners so it is probably best for you to stay behind at the airship. Nords have a tendency to respond with violence if confronted with strangers.”
Zarador opened a small bottle of flin and took a sip from it as he examined the alterations I’d made to the map.
,,Won’t they see you as a stranger? Perhaps you should take a few of those flashy Centurions with you.” He suggested. I shook my head and rejected this plan.
,,No. Arriving at the village like a Dwemer king will only lead to my head being put on a spear. I have a few relatives living there, such as my uncle or my foster-father. I should be able to solve things and get their help.”
By the end of the day, we’d reached the northern coast of Vvardenfell. The Cloudcleaver continued its journey over the seas, lit only by the moons for I’d covered all lights with a dark cloth. We slept easily in the ancient beds. When I woke up the next morning, I was immediately spoken to by an Administrator.
,,Lord, it appears that we are lost. The coast does not match the map.” It said. I yawned for a bit and headed up to the deck to see for myself. I had to admit, the coast did look different than on the map, even if I took natural corrosion into account. The Imperial fort, or its remains, had clearly not been here for long. A large group of Imperials, an Argonian and a few Bretons were all gathered in the courtyard, looking up and pointing at the airship.
I slapped my forehead in frustration.
,,Leave it up to my luck to park the Cloudcleaver above the heads of the local fort.”
I dragged Zarador out of his bed and had him get dressed up in all of his blue splendour as the airship began its descent.
,,Hold it, Ro-El! What do you want me to do?” He asked a bit cranky due to me kicking him out of the bed.
,,I don’t know. Just get out there and convince those fools that you’re this scholar who has made the fabulous invention of a fully functioning airship. I can’t bother to be slowed down by formalities such as explaining where I found this thing.” I explained and threw a rope out from the ship’s stern.
,,From here on out, I think I’m heading out on my own. I’ll come back. Try to keep the villagers away from the Centurions. The little machines might get agitated and attack.” I waved a short goodbye and then descended along the rope, landing on the beach while hidden from prying eyes by a convenient rock.
I drew my cloak around me and began my long walk to my old home. I followed the river known as Iggnir. As I continued north, the steady decline in warmth continued and soon the river froze. I rested at night, using a scroll of fire and collected twigs to keep me warm. As soon as the sun rose up in the sky again, I would continue my journey. My diet consisted of whatever I could scavenge. Perhaps it wasn’t the most healthy but I simply lacked the courage to hunt some of the more dangerous animals that lived on this frozen pit in the middle of nowhere. My only respite came after four days of travel when I reached the Meadhall of Thirsk. Apart from their rather gruesome habit of displaying bodyparts of fallen foes as trophies, the place was hospitable with a fire always burning and the alcohol always flowing. I stuck with water.
I saw three more days of travel, part of which was through a snowstorm. Only my Nord blood kept me from freezing. Finally, I saw the wooden huts of Skaal in the distance. My cold feet already felt warmer at the sight of civilization in this waste. If I wasn’t born here, I would’ve never believed that anyone would be mad enough to live here. As was the Nord custom, I first entered the Greathall to make my presence known to the current chieftain. Nothing had changed it seemed, for Tharsten Heart-Fang was still in charge. I did not bow, for that would be seen as a sign of weakness. If I knew one thing, it was this. Nords did not like weaklings or cowards. Too bad I was both.
,,Glory and fame to you, Chieftain. I, Roland Wolf-Tail, have returned.” I spoke, using the name I’d received upon birth. Tharsten looked at me closely. After a while, recognition gleamed in his eyes.
,,Little Roland, how you’ve grown! Not as much as I’d hoped, but more than I’d expected! You must be a fully grown warrior now. Yes, join the men around the table. I’ll have the Mead brought out so you can tell us of your exploits and battles.” He barked with a fatherly voice. I remembered that voice clearly, for it was Tharsten who’d raised me as his own son after my parents were killed during the Riestaag, a sacred hunt.
Ahhh so Ro-El is Skaal eh? He's changed quite a lot from their ways it seems.
Great work all the same though, jack. Please continue!
Just sat down and read through the entire series, and its fan-bloody-tastic! Having read it all in one hit, the character development really stands out, seeing Ro-El beginning as a slave and developing into this really interesting character discovering who is trying to discover his past life and how it effects him. Great stuff!
Really, really short one. It's also a bit crappy in my opinion. Ah well, I'm really tired so I'll just post this. I'll continue on with this thing during the weekend.
We Nords did what we do best. Tell completely exaggerated stories while getting seriously drunk. After half an hour, I was the only one sober enough to remember my name. Or all three names I could claim. My name list was getting rather long for comfort. After the heavy drinking, the Skaal continued with another ancient tradition. Snoring till they would wake up again with a huge hangover. The medication for that hangover was more drinking.
Anyway, I went to my old bed and prepared for the night. It was then that Tharsten stumbled in.
,,Roland, we need to talk.” He said with a slurring voice. Somehow, I had the feeling I was not going to enjoy our conversation.
,,What is it, Chieftain?” Tharsten dropped down on the floor like a sack of Kwama eggs.
,,You’ve changed Roland. Ay, your stories were ones of great bravery and glorious battle. But the reality is different. You prefer to fight in such a way that the battle is into your favour before it has even began. You don’t show your opponents any honour. And finally, a toothpick is not the weapon of a warrior!” He gestured wildly with his arms.
,,So, to prove yourself as a Skaal, I have just the thing for you.” He started and looked at me expectantly. My reply was not the one he’d expected.
,,Sorry, but I’m not interested. It’s impossible to have a conversation when you’re drunk.” I replied with an utterly bored voice. For some reason, drunkards lacked any intimidation factor.
,,The land has fallen into bad times. The All-maker has put forth a challenge for us to prove ourselves worthy of his favour. You Roland, will be the one who takes the challenge. The challenge our greatest hero has taken long ago.” Tharsten was drooling on the ground which was a rather disgusting sight. As I’d said before, drunkards failed to impress me. I rolled my eyes and let out a weary sigh.
,,Not that one.” I complained.
,,Yes, the quest of Aevar Stone-Singer! Reawaken the land! Travel to the stones of Solstheim and collect their blessings! Do this Roland, and you will be a man we’ll sing about in our legends. Then, we’ll find you a woman so you can father a whole gang of kids.” He pressed on.
,,Do I really have to? I’m a bit young for marriage and all. There’s also the fact that I’m in a bit of a hurry. I don’t have time to wander aimlessly across the land, looking for some old rocks. Actually, I only came here to find a way into Lake Fjalding.” I admitted.
Tharsten crawled back onto his feet.
,,What?! Your only reason for coming here was because you plan to desecrate the sacret lake? I should smack you!” He shouted angrily.
,,I seriously doubt you could right now. Besides, as you already know, I don’t fight fair.” I reminded him. Tharsten calmed down a bit. Enough to stop drooling.
,,I’ll tell you something. You are the only one who is able to go on this quest right now. Please bring back the blessings to our land and I’ll see what I can do with Lake Fjalding.” I now had the clear impression that the Chieftain was rather desperate. He was lying when he said that no one could go on that quest. In fact, he would have to use violence to keep everyone from going on just that quest if he ever brought up the subject. No, Tharsten had changed since we last met, just as how I’d changed. He’d become a frightened man, a man who wanted me to leave.
But what for? What was he expecting to happen? There was only one way to figure it out. Go on the stupid pilgrimage and come back to find my answers. After stepping into Aevar Stone-Singer’s footsteps, I might be able to gain access to the Dwemer facility through the ice. If the Skaal would refuse to help me, I would just have to use the Cloudcleaver as a giant battering ram. Speaking of Dwemer airships, if I visited Zarador, I could get a Wing. That would seriously shorten my traveltime. I felt stupid for not thinking of this earlier.
,,Oh alright, I’ll do it. Tomorrow.”
The next morning, Tharsten had sobered up again which meant he was capable of coordinated movements. This also meant that going against his decisions now wouldn’t be a bad thing to do but since I’d already decided to do the damn pilgrimage, it didn’t matter. Anyway, the day began with probably the oldest tradition in the village. Throwing beds on their side while people are still sleeping in them.
Tharsten nearly threw the door out of its hinges and walked straight up to my bed.
,,Wake up, Roland! You’re wasting good sunlight!” He barked and threw the bed onto its side so hard, it slid across the floor till it ended up against a wall. Painful for the occupant, I remember.
,,Don’t throw the bed. You’re wasting good furniture.” I quipped, standing in the doorframe with my arms crossed in front of my chest. The dumbfounded expression on the Chieftain’s face was a classic.
,,Wha? How did you get there?” He stammered. I shrugged and walked into the room.
,,That’s something I learned. How to move unseen. And as for me being all up and ready to go save the world, I’ve developed the habit of waking up early. A couple hours before you do, to be precise.” I told him with a smug grin. Back in the days before I moved to Vvardenfell, I had the rather dubious reputation of being the one guy who slept through just about anything. Well, not anymore. With all the night-time assassinations to look out for, I couldn’t afford a long rest.
Tharsten recomposed himself. He picked up the bed and slammed it down heavily into its proper position. One of the bed’s legs broke upon impact with the floor and soon after the whole thing fell apart in a dozen pieces or something.
,,Warned you.” I joked. The Nord looked at the remains with complete disinterest.
,,The wood was getting old anyway.” He said as an excuse.
,,At least it will be good wood for the fire. Now get your legs moving. Come one, Aevar Stone-Singer didn’t linger!” He shooed me out of the door. Once I was out of his sight, I slinked back. Tharsten was standing near the pile of wood that used to be the bed. He was holding two pieces and tried frantically to make them stick together. I stifled a laugh and left the building.
The Skaal village was still quiet. It seemed as if Tharsten and I were the only ones awake. The others were still caught in their drunken slumber. That worked for me, it would make my departure a lot easier. I went into my extensive collection of trusty paper and withdrew a scroll of recall. Trudging across the whole island again through a thick pack of snow was not part of my plans. Aevar might have been a longlegged Nord with infinite stamina, I was definitely not.
The moment I reappeared onboard the Cloudcleaver, I nearly had to duck for a Sphere’s sword aimed at my face. Fortunately for me, the machine recognized me and stopped the blade before it could redesign my nose. It reminded me not to use teleportation without caution. That, and the sick feeling of having your stomach upside-down and inverted was another downside to instant travelling.
I made my way to the bedrooms where I heard Zarador’s loud snoring. I played with the thought of the Altmer being drunk like the Skaal for a while but decided not to wake him. I had no success to show him and more importantly, he would not approve of me doing my old family a favour with this long pilgrimage.
Instead of wasting time on a pointless conversation, I restocked my supplies and boarded a Wing. Once I was high up in the air, I took the time to look around while cursing the cold wind. I had heard the story of Aevar Stone-Singer countless times, so finding the damn stones shouldn’t be that much of a problem. Figuring out which one to visit first was. To add to my dilemma, I saw an ominous black cloud to the south. The Ash storm was getting closer. I peered at the dark omen. It was slow and it would never be able to catch me as long as I kept moving. While I knew that this was not the time to worry about such things, I was rather fascinated with the Sixth House’s abilities to track me down wherever I went. I shrugged and pointed the Wing east.
,,Must be one of the perks you get when your boss is a god. Oh well, let’s start with the stone of the sun. Might as well hop over to the closest first.”
Nice little splashes of humour jack. I guess the Skaal have yet to get used to the new Ro-El. It'll be interesting to see whether the Sixth House will interfer with the completetion of the Stone quests.
Chapter 3: Frozen blood aflame.
I paced back and forth in front of the Sunstone. Getting there had been a simple matter of flying in the right direction with my Wing. No, the real problem was figuring out what to do. If I’d been Aevar, the damn stone would’ve simply told me. But I wasn’t Aevar. I was Roland Wolf-tail, Ro-El Frost and Dumac Dwarfking returned. The stones wouldn’t just tell me because I was a Nord hero. I wasn’t a hero. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if I should be considered a Nord or a Dwemer.
My only solution came in the form of the story I’d heard countless times before as a child. The results were clearly visible. If Aevar hadn’t done it all before, I would probably still be trudging through the snow trying to find the stone. All I had to do in order to proceed was remember what came next. If only I could remember. Apparently, my adventurous time spent at Vvardenfell, not to mention the recent invasion of Dumac’s memories, had degraded the memories I had left of my childhood. If only I could remember.
,,If, if, if! If if’s were septims, I would be able to make a life-sized replica of Ebonheart castle!” I shouted to no one and kicked the monolith in frustration.
,,The sun has been caught by the unholy ones. Go to the Halls of Penumbra, slay the unholy ones and free the sun from its icy cage.” A voice howled in the wind. I stared at the stone and then at my foot.
,,Kick it. I should’ve known. That’s just the kind of thing Aevar would’ve done in my situation.”
I also now remembered the further part of the story. The Halls of Penumbra was a cavern, roughly to the west of the stone and its walls were coated in ice. It was inhabited by undead creatures known as Draugr, who for some reason had an intense hatred of light. So naturally, the Halls were very dark. And I had to go in there and likely smack them all. Just my favourite kind of thing to do. Not. At least I would have an advantage Aevar did not have. A flying Dwemer machine with built-in crossbow.
I mounted the Wing again and flew off towards the west. My search for the entrance was barely long enough to make up a plan of action. As they say though, the first casualty during a battle is the plan. In my case, this casualty fell at the door. I spent half an hour looking for an alternate entrance but there was none. It was just my luck, having to go through a door that was too small for my Centurion. Still, I would have to go in there, with or without a Dwemer machine at my side.
I weighed my options carefully before even touching the door. Apart from my lack of firepower, the lack of light would be a problem as well. I could go in with a piece of flaming wood, but that would only draw attention. No, it looked as if I had to go in there blind. Not a pleasant idea. But what had to be done had to be done. I took a few deep breaths and tried to open the door. Locked and the lock had been frozen to pieces long ago which made lockpicks useless. Brilliant.
I stepped to the side calmly and pointed at the door that stood in my way.
,,Shoot the lock to pieces.” I ordered and the Wing did it easily with a single bolt. I used my rapier to remove the remaining bits of ice and then gave it a good kick. Creaking loudly, the door swung open, letting light shine into the Halls. No stealthy entrance for me. Immediately following the first rays of light, an earpiercing shriek assaulted my ears. Something heavy and dry smacked into my chest, sending me into the snow. There was a loud thunk, the feeling of something piercing through the air followed by another shriek, one of death this time.
I got up carefully, still a bit dizzy from my sudden flight. The remains of a Draugr lied just a few steps beyond the opening, a bolt cleanly sticking out of the wall nearby. There was little doubt it was death. No matter what form of undead you were, getting blasted into countless pieces the size of a finger has to be unhealthy. I removed the Dwemer bolt and loaded it back into the Wing’s magazine. With the nearest ammunition depot hidden under a thick layer of ice, I wasn’t going to let any bolts go to waste. Having done that, I gave the Draugr a good inspection, for as much as I could.
It was the first time I saw one but I could use my knowledge of other forms of undead to my advantage. The Draugr was the reanimated corpse of a Nord. If it had died anywhere else, it’s flesh would’ve rotten by now leaving only a skeleton. Due to the intense cold of Solstheim though, all the water had been drawn out of its flesh and the flesh had frozen into a leathery substance, making it more look like an underfed man than an undead. In short, it resembled a Bonewalker closest, though without all the juicy bits.
A skeleton with skin. The Wing’s bolt had been big enough to downright shatter the damn thing but I shouldn’t hope of killing them with a rapier. Tharsten was right when he compared it to a toothpick. You don’t go killing with a toothpick. Well, at least not if you don’t know how to use it. No, I would have to revert to my oldest form of fighting. Fists and feet. I took another deep breath and stepped over the Draugr pieces.
The corridor arced downward rapidly and soon the light from outside had vanished. I closed my now useless eyes and focussed on my remaining senses. I could feel the air flowing around me, a breathing barrier between me and what lied beyond. A slight disturbance in the flow. I ducked, feeling something pass through the area where my head had been a moment earlier. Not wasting any time to wonder what had done that, I dashed forward, punching with the tips of my fingers, withdrawing the moment I made contact. There was a horrible sound of frozen skin and flesh cracking, accompanied by the shrieking of the wounded Draugre. I punched again, this time with an open palm. This time the sound was like an explosion as its exposed spine was turned to dust.
I felt around carefully with my boots till I’d confirmed the thing’s death. Silently, I thanked Leroth for teaching me how to fight without eyes and without weapons. His techniques were simply superb, as the complete destruction of the undead had proven. I shuffled further into the cavern, listening and feeling with my entire body for more trouble.
Well it seems Ro-El's method is effective at the moment. Let's see how long that last for. Muahaha!
Is that an evil laugh? Is it? Well, don't underestimate Ro-El for he is part Nord, part Dwemer and entirely abnormal. Muhahaha!
And more trouble was what I found. The place was crawling with Draugr everywhere. Too many for me to fight on my own. Still, I somehow managed with a lot of ducking, jumping off walls and simply making them hit each other instead of me. After I’d balanced the odds a bit, I broke the last few Draugr with a few well-placed taps.
The silence that followed was more unnerving than the roaring of the Draugr and the sound of their frozen bones. This pitchblack cavern was wrecking my nerves. I could do without sight, but the lack of light brought a feeling of uncertainty with it. I cleared the lump in my throat, took a few deep breaths to calm down and proceeded further. What had to be done had to be done, whether I felt good about it or not. To be honest, a stubborn part of me refused to simply walk away. This was no longer about stepping in Aevar’s footsteps, this was about my pride. About proving to myself that I could be more than just Dumac reborn. That I could do things on my own, things that were not foretold in prophecy.
Nothing stood in my way and I continued my blind descent. Slowly, light reached through my closed eyelids. At first, I thought I was merely imagining the light but as it grew brighter, I realized it was real. I opened my eyes warily. I immediately wished I hadn’t. Not knowing what you’re fighting can be comforting, even though it is rather dangerous. All I noticed about the thing which protected the light were the claws, the huge spikes on its back and the flaming eyes. Having seen that, I made the right choice. I bravely ran away.
It roared, much louder than all the Draugr combined, as it gave chase. As I went further away from the light, darkness came back. Not entirely though, for the beast’s eyes still burned visibly. I stumbled over the Draugr corpses I’d left behind earlier. Now I wished I’d removed them from my path. It was something you can only complain about when looking back. How was I supposed to know I would be fleeing?
Well, it wasn’t exactly fleeing. Basically, it was the repeat of a tactic I’d used before. When I neared the entrance, the light reflecting off the snow was blinding. I closed my eyes and counted my steps. The moments my feet sank into the soft snow, I jumped to the side and gave the big command.
,,Fire!”
There was a thunk, a roar of agony and anger. More thunks, weaker roaring. Then, the heavy thump of the beast falling facefirst into the snow. It was dead. My plan had been simple. If the Wing couldn't go to the monsters, the monsters would simply have to go to the Wing.
I got up, brushed off the snow and entered the Halls of Penumbra for the second time. This time though, I decided to take a torch with me. Everything inside was dead so I wouldn’t have to worry about stealth. Besides, the stealth hadn’t been very successful last time.
As I’d expected and hoped, there were no undead or big beasts to stop me. I made it all the way to the wall of ice covering the light without any interference. Now came the hardest bit. How to free the light? I paced back and forth in front of the sheet of ice, watching my torch shrink. I tried pressing the flames against it, but there was no result. I hadn’t expected any. This wasn’t normal ice, this was Stalhrim, an odd form of ice that could not be melted by the hottest flames and was stronger than the strongest steel. It was most often used to protect burial sites.
I paced around a bit more, trying to remember what Aevar did. My memories recalled something about plucking an unholy beast’s eye and throwing it at the wall with all his might.
,,No, no and no! I’m not going to drag that thing all the way back here and I’m definitely not going to rip out its eyeball! That’s just gross.” I shouted, my voice echoing all around me. I paced around even more, growing increasingly frustrated.
My torch had died out by now so I dropped it. When my frustration reached a peak, I kicked the Stalhrim wall, which caused a hollow sound like hitting a steel barrel. I withdrew my foot and stared at the wall, realizing my stupidity. The wall was not as perfectly solid as it appeared. In fact, no wall could be perfect. I should have realized it sooner. The answer to my problem was simple, though it required a monk rather than a Nordic warrior to find this answer. The Stalhrim had tiny defects, too small for the eye to see. If exploited, I could use the wall’s strength against itself.
I laid a hand on the wall and felt around for the weaknesses that had to be there. Such an investigation took time, more than an hour, but it was worth it. The strike I planned to make clearly took too much preparation to be usable in combat but it was much more powerful as a result. It was the so-called ‘fist of infinite blows’. One strike that would spark countless following strikes without the monk moving a finger. In the end, the target would vibrate itself to pieces. Once I’d concluded my search, I took a single step back and struck with a single finger, punching at a downward angle like a bird swooping down on its prey. There was no sound of impact, no visual result. In fact, it looked as if I hadn’t achieved anything.
I retreated out of the cavern and had a meal up at the surface. I then jumped on top of the Wing and flew off towards the next stone, the stone of Trees. In a few days, I would return and see the results of this ‘infinite fist’.
Those Wings sound quite handy when they can take out Trolls like that quite easily. Good stuff indeed. I'm liking the whole monk attack thingy too (though I don't think it's actually possible in real life, you have to hit the area repeated times lightly to reach it's resonance).
I doubt the monk attack is possible in the real world as well. (Then again, they can smack through a pile of bricks sitting on some guy's throat without harming said throat so, who knows.) It is mostly meant as some sweet storytelling about Ro-El's strength. He's not the strongest, but with his tricks you won't even notice. His fists make zombies explode!
And the wing taking out the Grahl as simple like that, it's really not that hard to imagine. The machine is about the size of a Bull Netch and fires really big bolts. While its crossbow isn't as big as the one you can find outside Dwemer ruins, it's still much bigger than the handheld version. And size of weapon and projectile means power.
Enough of me talking, here comes the update.
At the Treestone, I repeated the activation-process which came down to a simple kick and got my orders. This time, I had to recover the seeds of the First Tree which had been stolen. I was then supposed to plant them near the Treestone.
In Aevar’s story, the snow elves had been responsible for the theft. In my case, the culprit was a Riekling, a creature that was similar to a goblin in size and behaviour. He was surrounded by Spriggans, wood spirits who defended anything plantlike with a fanatic zeal. If I’d simply walk in and try to take the seeds from the little critter, they’d surely attack me and killing a Spriggan required to turn them into little splinters quite thoroughly. That would take too long.
Aevar distracted them with fire, but I had a better solution. After all, I was the reincarnation of the Dwemer king. I might as well use my heritage. I swooped down on the Wing, tackled the little Riekling, snatched the bag he clutched in his fingers and was back up in the air before either the Riekling or the Spriggans had any idea what just happened. That was easy. I returned to the Treestone and planted the seeds I’d found in the bag. A loud rumble came from the snow and a massive tree shot up out of the ground, its branches twisting around the Treestone. For five minutes, the tree continued to grow. Then, it apparently reached its full size and wavered in the wind.
I carefully touched it to make sure it was real.
,,Wow, now that’s impressive.” I muttered to myself. I had no time to delay though, I had to get moving. I turned around and began to walk away when the tree shook its branches. Something fell out of it, right on my head as if it was meant to be on my head.
,,Ouch!” My hands flew up and pulled the object away. Looking down upon it, I had to admit I was impressed again.
It was a helmet, made of the finest Stalhrim. A steel frame held the perfectly shaped band of ice, that ran around the back and sides. At the back, a finger of Stalhrim rose up, arching forward over the top till it ended in a noseguard. It was an excellent example of fine craftsmanship.
Stalhrim weapons and armours were extremely rare, even more rare than Stalhrim itself. Just how this tree ever managed to sprout a helmet of the stuff, I did not know. What was even more surprising was its shape and size. When I said it fell on my head as if it was meant to be there, I wasn’t joking. It fit perfectly. Perfect fit or not, I put it in a bag for the moment and mounted the Wing to continue my quest. The possible consequences of this perfectly fitting helmet were something I did not want to think about right now.
The next one was the Earthstone, at the western edge of the island. I saw the ash storm again during my flight. It hadn’t moved, which worried me a bit. However, I decided to ignore it for the time being and focus on my job.
The Earthstone had me play with music in a cave, which proved to be no problem. After a few moments, I’d figured out the tune and managed to recreate it. When I finished the tune, the cave began to rumble, a crack forming at the far wall. I begun to retreat my steps out of fear for a possible collapse when the earthquake stopped as sudden as it had begun. Still a bit jumpy, I turned around again.
The wall had split open, revealing a small alcove. In the alcove, I saw something which really got me wondering about this quest. A pair of boots, completely dustfree. And just as with the helmet earlier, it was composed of a steel frame, chainmail style in this case, with several pieces of Stalhrim around it. I approached it slowly. As I came closer, I noticed that the Stalhrim didn’t look as if someone had crafted it, instead it looked more as if it had simply grown around the steel mesh. And just to make it even more frightening, the boots were just my size.
I piled them together with the helmet in the same bag once I’d returned to the Wing.
,,This is getting very creepy here.”
Next was the waterstone, which tasked me with finding the Waters of Life. To do that, I would have to find the Swimmer. I approached the coast, where I saw a large black beast sitting on a sheet of ice like a fish on dry land. Upon my approach, it dove into the waters, resurfacing after a moment and looking at me, as if it was waiting for something.
I knew this had to be the Swimmer. Edging forward, I dipped a finger in the water. As I’d already feared, the water was cold and half-frozen, feeling more like a thick soup than water. I sighed and went into my extensive collection of scrolls. Presto, one waterwalk, just what I needed.
Every step on the watersurface was accompanied by the sound of a shattering mirror. Rather peculiar and it might have been interesting for a scholar. Me, I was more worried about the Swimmer. If it decided to dive, I would have to enter the water anyway. As if it had read my thoughts, the creature flipped over and went straight for the bottom.
,,Great. I hate cold water.” I murmured as I lied down on the water and looked down at the bottom. I saw a shadow amidst the rocks littering the seabed, an entrance to an underwater cave. Quite deep as well.
,,I took waterwalk scrolls but forgot to bring a waterbreathing scroll. I’ll remember that next time.”
While the water still supported my weight, I took a few things out of my pack. First came a rope which I tied between my belt and my backpack. After that came a thick blanket which I wrapped around my face and throat to protect them from the intense cold I would experience upon diving into the water. Once I’d finished with my preparations, it was a simple matter of waiting for the spell to run out and deposit me in the water.
The water was so cold, it seemed to burn. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep breath before blindly diving for the entrance. By the time I made it to the entrance I’d already reached the point where I should turn around and head back for the surface. Still, I pushed on and entered the darkness.
Water was everywhere, cold, sending sharp bursts of numbing pain into every single part of my body. My lungs screamed from the lack of air. Against my will, my mouth opened and swallowed up the water. I started to feel light as I began to show the first signs of drowning.
,,What an end, drowning.” I thought bitterly.
Something grabbed my leg, dragging me forward at greater speeds than I could’ve swum under my own power. The water rushed up out of my lungs, being replaced by a crisp gas I loved. Air. I filled my lungs again and again, spitting out the last drops of icy water as I did so. Once I felt a bit better, I patted the Swimmer on its head.
,,Thanks, I owe you one.” I said to it. The creature snorted and splashed on the watersurface with its head.
,,Yeah, I know. I’ll have to go on.” I said with a sigh and looked up at my target.
There was a small altar with a potion. The Waters of Life. The potion was not unguarded though. It was covered in a cage of ice. A spectre stood watch, garbed in a full suit of ethereal Stalhrim. It gestured at me with a hand.
,,It is you. I’ve been waiting for a long time, my son.” It said solemnly, a tear running down its face.
,,Come, step on the ledge and follow me. Before you claim the Waters of Life, there are things to discuss, lessons to learn.” It continued and walked out of the small chamber, right through a wall. Feeling no need to remain in the cold water any longer, not to mention being curious, I pulled myself up onto the ledge and shook the water off as good as I could. I then inspected the wall the spectre had vanished through. It was an illusion.
,,I wonder what he has to say.” With that thought and a deep breath, I stepped through.
Hmm these perfectly fitting pieces of armour seemed to tell me that Ro-El was destined to complete these tasks. Quite curious indeed.
Oh yea, and a great read as always buddy.
[Darth Vader voice] It is... your des-tiny. [/Darth Vader voice]
Nice work, Jack. This is a little different from the regular ol' Bloodmoon MQ.
Well, I don't have Bloodmoon so I'm heavily improvising on what I've read about it. Besides, this 'travel to the Stones' quest sounds quite boring. Once at the location it sounds fine, but looking for a single monolith in a frozen waste probably takes a lot of time. I figured some extra rewards were necessary. Ro-El has no need for the official reward. Anyway, update.
If I had been expecting something impressive, such as a buried ship filled with treasure fitting for a Nord king, or a heavily decorated tomb, or even a simple altar with a corpse on it, I would be disappointed. The room was mind-boggling huge, spreading into all directions, but it was completely empty. There were no torches, or any other conventional lightsource. Instead, the walls themselves seemed to radiate with a crimson light that gave me the shivers.
,,What is this place? And who are you?” I asked nervously. The whole place had something creepy to it, ignoring the fact that there was a heavily armed ghost standing near me.
,,Aye, this place, is my curse. Come forward, and I’ll show you.” The spectre beckoned. Slowly and with a hand near my rapier, I approached. Once the being deemed me close enough, it pointed down at the floor. I looked down, and had to suppress the urge to vomit. The floor was transparent, and I could look through it as if it was simply a red mist. A body was down there, impaled upon a monstrous spear. Its chest heaved as it took tortured breaths, its limbs shivering in agony. Its right hand clawed for a weapon that was no longer there, the left clutched the spear’s shaft and tried to pull the weapon out of the wound. The worst was its face, which displayed its pain and despair.
,,That is me. I was once the greatest among the Skaal, now I’m a mere trophy. My body suffers, while my spirit wanders this place restlessly.” The Spectre explained. I tore my eyes away from the gruesome sight and fixed them upon the spirit’s face. Its expression mimicked the pain its body was suffering.
,,I should have died long ago, when the world was still new and Fjalding’s waters rippled in the breeze.” It continued. I delved into my own knowledge of the Skaal. When Fjalding’s waters rippled, that was indeed a long time ago. Some quick calculations, and I realized that this man predated the Empire, or the Tribunal. I shuddered at the thought of how long he had endured this torture even till today. Anyone would have gone mad, yet he had kept his wits about him.
,,How do you manage?” I asked, shaking my head at my own thoughts.
,,I don’t know. From time to time, a woman appears. Her skin is grey as the ash and her eyes burn hot with the fire of a thousand forges. She eases my pain and protects my sanity. Not for me, nor for her, but for you. I have been charged with the task of waiting for you to appear. Here, in this room.” It answered and turned away from its physical prison.
,,I do not know your name, and you don’t know mine. But the woman told me, that you are a direct descendant of my blood. You are a mystery to this world, the seed from which the glorious past shall be reborn. When you came, I had to tell you this. The icy blood of Aevar Stone-Singer flows through your veins, the raging fire of Red Mountain burns in your soul.”
It watched me anxiously, waiting for a response, any response. At first, I was shocked by the revelation that Aevar Stone-Singer himself was my ancestor. Then, I got slightly amused and told myself I could’ve guessed it would be something like that. First Dumac reborn and now the descendant of Aevar, it couldn’t get any stranger.
,,You are Aevar.” It wasn’t a question, I’d said it as if it was a fact. The spirit nodded.
,,Aye, I am Aevar. And you are about to walk in the steps I left behind. After my quest, I became arrogant, absorbed by an illusion of my glory. When the Hunter came into this world, I challenged him openly. We did battle, and I lost. Now I am here, trapped in this tomb as his trophy.” It whispered.
,,Listen carefully, my son. You must travel to the stones, take the armour the woman left for you there. Then, enter Fjalding’s heart where you shall retrieve that which made the lake freeze and turn into Stalhrim. With the heart of Fjalding in hand, you can challenge the Hunter and demand my death from him.”
I sat down and listened, making mental notes on what he told me. Grey skin and red eyes. Since we were talking about an incredibly long span of time, it could only be an immortal being who had visited Aevar. Only one fit the description. Azura. She’d changed the Dunmer, brought the Nerevarine into this world and according to some sources, she was the one who struck down the Dwemer. Just what didn’t she do? While I was thinking, Aevar continued.
,,Unlike me, you have a gift. Your soul is bound to that of an immortal god. Whenever you are struck by magicka, this god will absorb it for you and channel it into a form you can release upon your foes. With this gift, you stand a chance against the Hunter’s guile. You are fast and quick on your feet, you’ve trained to be a lethal weapon without weapons or armour. With this, you will be able to match the Hunter’s speed. You will claim ownership over a sword with no equal, its cold fury will guard you against the Hunter’s strength. You will drink the Waters of Life, which will protect you from death. And finally, you have this.” At these last words, Aevar pulled a ring from his spectral finger. He bent down and slipped it around mine. Despite being nearly invisible and entirely weightless, the ring fit around my finger as if it was solid and real.
,,This ring holds great power. It is bound to my soul. You can use it once, to break me free from the Hunter’s curse for a short time. Use it at the right time, and I shall come to your aid. And as my last gift to you, look at the Swimmer’s side. It suffered a wound long ago. I used my shield to stop the bleeding. By now, the wound has been healed and you should take the shield for yourself. Now go, and may the power of the All-Maker be with you.”
I bowed to him, an universal sign of respect. Then, I departed. I took the potion and called for the Swimmer to take me back. It did so and returned me to Solstheim. Before we went separate ways, I looked at its side as Aevar had told me. Indeed, a sheet of brilliant Stalhrim was embedded into the creature’s side. I jarred it free from the thick mass of its fur. The creature snorted and dove into the ocean, vanishing from sight.
Now that I was alone, I got the odd feeling that it never happened. Yet I had proof that it did happen. Aevar’s ring was around my finger, the water’s of life sat inside my pocket and finally, I had this Stalhrim shield. Like with the other Stalhrim pieces, it was brilliantly crafted, or grown. A single sheet of Stalhrim shaped like a sail, its edges covered by engraved steel. The sunlight reflecting on the Stalhrim caused a shimmer on its surface, a shimmer that looked like a wolf growling at some unseen foe.
,,The Hunter. If I am to challenge him, I need every advantage I can get. So that’s why this armour is popping up around me. I could certainly use its protection.”
Excellent discussion with this spirit. Yet again, another bomb of a revelation is made. Not only is Ro-El Dumac, he's also Aevar now!?!?!? I almost wonder if another Incarnate of something dwells within our little Agent.
Loved this update Jack!
He's not Aevar. He's the descendant of Aevar. So Aevar is his great-great-great-great-great-etc. grandfather.
And the last two stones really were hard on me. What to come up with? In the end I kept it simple. Just read.
I did not return to the waterstone. Aevar had literally said that I had to drink the Waters of Life myself. But when, he did not tell. He also didn’t tell me what the Waters would do to me. In the end, it was best to wait with drinking till there was no other way out. And as for the armour piece, I’d already gotten his shield. In short, there was no reason for me to return.
No, I moved on. I’d visited three stones, four if you count the sunstone, and I had three left to go. The windstone, the beaststone and of course the sunstone which I’d partially dealt with already. Continuing my circle around the island, I first came upon the windstone. After the traditional kick against the monolith, I was off again. Frankly, this part of the stonehopping quest turned out to be incredibly boring.
Unlike the previous stones, there was absolutely no challenge with the last ones. The windstone sent me to an empty tomb and the beaststone had me rescue the Good Beast, which had already slain its assailants when I arrived. The rational part of me told me to be glad for this lack of challenge but another part of me complained about the very same thing. Maybe I was more of a hotblooded Nord than I dared to admit.
The good part was that my boredom was rewarded extremely well. Of course there were the usual armour pieces, a pair of greaves and gauntlets in this case, but the windstone also provided me with a very nice pouch. While rather mundane from the outside, it had the peculiar ability of storing a near infinite amount of items, without any mass or size considerations. I found out about this nice effect when I dug around inside it, just to see if it held a few small trinkets, and found a pair of greaves instead which were much larger than the pouch that contained them. Further experiments revealed that I could indeed store anything inside it, including the Netch-sized Wing. This pouch found itself a permanent location at my belt where it remained for many years.
As said earlier, the windstone and the beaststone were boring. With those two out of the way, I returned to the Halls of Penumbra to collect the final piece of armour. When I reached the chamber with the Stalhrim wall, I saw that the wall had shattered itself into countless pieces. I never had the chance before to actually practice the ‘infinite fist’ but it surely looked as if I’d mastered the trick behind it. The light I’d seen earlier now shone unobscured. The source of this light was a small jewel mounted at the chest section of a cuirass, made from finely crafted Stalhrim of course.
,,Boots, helmet, greaves, gauntlets, shield and a cuirass. That looks like everything. Well, time to head back, I guess.” I nodded to myself, hurried back to the cold snow outside, pulled the Wing out of my new toy and jumped on it.
While the Wing is a fast machine, travelling from one end of the island to the other still takes time. Enough time for me to reflect upon my last meeting with Tharsten. My journey had provided me with some nice armour, a prophecy, a bag and a sense of identity. But it was obvious to me that he had only ordered me to travel in Aevar’s footsteps so I wouldn’t be in the village. He was frightened of something, but of what? With my thoughts running around in circles, I gazed up at the red moons in the night sky. They’d had this colour for as long as I remembered, yet something felt wrong. Like a cold chill that wasn’t there before. A chill that was colder than the frozen land.
,,Think, Ro-El. Tharsten wanted you to be gone. Normally, he would be overjoyed at your return but he wasn’t. So think, what is scaring the crap out of the Skaal? Or better yet, what can scare the crap out of them? It’s not the ashstorm. Apart from the fact that the cloud hasn’t moved in a while there is the fact that some dust won’t scare them, not till the dust transforms into an army of monsters.” I reasoned with myself. A wolf howled below me. Finally, I concluded that worrying would take me nowhere. I would simply have to ask them. Just as the Skaal village appeared at the edge of my vision, the wolf howled again, soon to be followed by others.
,,Looks like there’s a pack of wolves out there. Guess that means the deer population will be lowered tonight.”
For some insane reason, I do not think those are normal wolves........ ![]()
The stones....yes..I remember going through that. It´s tricky, really. You describe it very well indeed!
I second Revan's sentiments. Those might not be normal wolves... Looks like Ro-El might be putting his new armour to use very, very soon.
Excellent update, Jack.
I had planned this to happen for a while, but it feels like cheating now. Damn.
As a Skaal, I was not afraid of wolves. Oftentimes, I’d watched them from a close distance as they hunted, each individual moving like a gear in a Dwemer machine, each moving to complement the movements of the pack as a whole. Wolves were brilliant hunters and I respected them, but I did not fear them. As the Skaal had respect for the wolves, the wolves had respect for the Skaal. We were neighbours and never squabbled. Sometimes, we even helped each other out, by presenting food and protection to those lost in the wilderness while wounded.
As such, my reaction to the howls where not strange at all. If I’d known however, I would have done something quite different. Anyway, I landed the Wing on a nearby hill and stuffed it into my pouch. After that, I casually strode through the snow towards the wooden huts. There was a storm brewing, and the wind deafened my hearing for a bit. Because of that, I did not hear the warcries and distinct sounds of battle till it was too late. I was an arrowshot away from the village when I finally caught on.
,,Ok, this is bad.” I muttered as my eyes tried to pierce the darkness of the night. There was a slight amount of light coming from the various campfires, but it was only enough to see vague silhouettes. The Skaal were fighting against Draugr, Spriggans, Rieklings? It was hard to see. I took a single step forward to reach a better vantage point.
The snow in front of me exploded. Something dark flew up. I backflipped on pure instinct and managed to avoid the swipe of its hairy paws, though I still got a large amount of the damn thing’s spit in my face. I still could not make out more than a silhouette and two yellow eyes as it lunged at me. Obviously, it was out for my blood. I had other ideas. I snapped into the ‘Floating Butterfly’ close-range evasion technique to dodge it. The Floating Butterfly is highly aggressive for a martial art focussed on evasion. While most styles try to increase the distance, the Butterfly calls for closing the distance as far as is possible and then moving around the opponent’s arc of attack. It also calls for the user to be extremely light on his feet, more floating than standing.
It is my favourite style for evasion and I complement it with an offensive style which seems to be simply meant to be used in conjunction with the Floating Butterfly. The Stinging Bee, which is all about hitting the vital parts with quick strikes of the fingers when they are least prepared.
In this case, I hopped between its arms and moved into position for my next move. A smooth switch to the Stinging Bee later, and the tips of my finger dug into the fur, piercing the skin like an arrow between two ribs. I withdrew my hand, jumped on one of its arms to use it as a springboard and then followed through with a knee to the throat. The creature reeled back from the assault. I moved away from it and waited anxiously. After three tense seconds, it fell down on its face, killed by both a partially crushed heart and a crushed windpipe. The heart had been the worst one. Suffocation takes a bit longer to kill. Now that it was dead and no longer moving, I got the opportunity to see it properly. But first I wiped the spit from my face.
It was a wolf, a humanoid wolf about as tall as your average Nord. In other words, very tall. The claws looked razorsharp and I considered myself lucky for avoiding them. The same thing could be said about its mouth.
,,Ok, so the Skaal are fighting off a raid by big wolves. I heard of this before. Err…When the moon turns red with the blood of the prey, the h…Ehm…Crap.” I broke into a run as I finally realized the meaning of all the signs I’d seen. This was bad, really bad. In fact, it was the Skaal version of the end of the world. Only instead of being a story, it was really happening.
,,Brilliant. I get to save Morrowind from a god and I get to fight werewolves here as a warm-up. This is so not nice.”
More werewolves leapt out of the darkness as I approached the village as fast as my legs could take me. I would have preferred to tackle the problem as an agent, by slipping on the armour and releasing the Wing before showering everything that moved with Fireburst scrolls. But time was not on my side so my only option was to tackle the problem as a Nord. Take one sword, put the pointy bit into the hairy thingy, repeat till all hairy thingies are gone.
My rapier flashed in the light of a campfire. I stabbed in the knee of a werewolf, rolled between its legs, flipped up backwards and stabbed a second time, now in an eye. The thing shrieked before crashing down into a broken heap.
,,Roland!” I whirled around to meet the voice, dodging a big mouth full of teeth in the process.
,,Oh, hi Tharsten. Say, you didn’t tell me about the damn party. What’s the meaning of this?” I shot at the burly Nord while I poked out the eye of the werewolf with a thumb. The critter shrieked like the one I killed a moment earlier, giving me the chance to slit its throat. They were big, but not as tough as they looked.
,,It means the Hunter is about to return! You aren’t supposed to be here! Flee, now!” Tharsten shouted before he was interrupted by a werewolf that bit down on his arm.
,,Agh! Fiend! I’ll show you the power of a Skaal!” He grunted. His arm rose up into the air and swung down. The mace he wielded cracked open the beasts skull like a nut under a hammer.
,,Tharsten, you ok?!” I shouted and completely forgot the battle that raged around me. Sure, the Chieftain could be annoying at times but he was still my father. Still, forgetting about the two dozen bloodthirsty beasts around me was a bad thing to do. What was most emberassing was that the hit came from the front. I never saw it coming. I only felt the intense, burning pain that spread all across my body.
,,Roland!”
Oh no! Ro-El! Please, please be safe, I don't want this fic to end yet!
I must also comment on how brilliant these lines are:
I just stumbled on to this thread today. Just read the entire thing in one sitting. Cool!
I'd like some of these Dwemer gadgets and a self-repairing factory. ![]()
My only question is the apparent use of the word "death" here and there where context seems to imply the word "dead".
One such example:
I have a feeling it has to deal with the fact that Jack lives in a country where English isn't the first language. Am I correct?
I think that this story, besides from being an excellent and enjoyable reading, also is very well written! And considering Jackie is not native english makes it an aven bigger achievment! Tell me! I know all about that! (being a non-native)
Nah, I don't mind. It's constructive critiscism. So if I ever slip up like that, feel free to warn me.
Moons dripping with blood. Howls in the distance, eerie enough to make the blood freeze. A burning forest. And standing right in front of my eyes, a giant of a man, masked with the skull of a deer. In his hand, he held a spear. At his feet, a giant wolf sat, with an immense amount of drool dripping from its mouth. The man pointed at the wolf with a finger, then aimed the finger at me.
,,This is you.” He said with a deep voice.
The scene shifted. A cold cliff, suspended high above the ground with only a small ledge to stand on. The man was gone, together with the burning forest. Yet the moons still cried their tears of blood. A loud howl echoed all around me. I spun around to face the wolf. The creature growled at me and displayed its sharp array of claws and teeth.
,,Join me. Accept me.”
The mental voice caught me off guard. I swayed back and forth in the heavy winds as I tried to find a balance between stability and a defensive stance.
,,What are you?” I shouted at it over the screaming wind.
,,I am you. The blood that resides within you. I am the essence of your deepest desires. You’ve always wanted to be big and strong, just like Tharsten Heart-Fang. I can make your wish come true!” The wolf answered.
Me, a giant, drinking warrior? I had to admit that the idea appealed to me. To the old me. This was indeed my deepest desire while growing up among the Skaal. Not anymore though. In the new world I lived in, brute strength was not the perfect ideal. I was happy with myself the way I was.
,,Shut up. You’re a werewolf, not some sort of projection of my soul. Just jump of the cliff and leave me alone.” I shouted back in an act of defiance. Bad move.
,,Fool! The price of rejection is death!” It leaped forward, impossibly fast. I tried to dodge it with the standard backflip, which was another mistake. My jump managed to take me away from the claws and the teeth, but also away from solid ground. I knew I was going to die.
The wolf had followed me. Now this was interesting. Either I would die by turning into flat goo on the ground, or I would die by being torn to pieces in midair. Now all I needed to complete the situation were a few spellhappy mages and bowhappy archers. Preferably Altmer and Bosmer, in that order. I resigned to my fate and let the wolf strike out with its paws.
The scene shifted again. I was still hurtling down through the sky, but something was different. No, it wasn’t me who was falling but someone else. But who? He or she managed to make a perfect landing, causing grass to bent and the ground to explode into a cloud of dust. No wait, it wasn’t grass. When the person looked down, I could see the burning forest again. What I’d believed to be grass were the charred hulks of the trees and the feet were a pair of Dwemer boots that dwarfed the trees they’d flattened. Who or better yet, what was I inhabiting?
The wolf landed on another small ledge, conveniently located at eyelevel.
,,What are you?” It snarled, thereby voicing the question I’d thought. The voice that answered was without emotion, or warmth. It was as soulless as a Dwemer Centurion. That was what it was, a Centurion.
,,I am Pelinal, the shield of Resdayn. Kagrenac’s greatest achievement.” Its fist struck out, smashing the ledge, the wolf and most of the cliff to pieces.
Pain, burning pain that knocked the breath out of me. The latest scene was the least pleasant in a way.
,,Ah, he’s back.” I forced my eyes to open upon hearing those words. Even now that they were open, I couldn’t see anything.
,,It is good to see that you’re still alive, Chieftain.” The voice said again.
,,What, Chieftain?” I croaked and promptly returned to my dreams.
I kept drifting in and out of unconsciousness for the next few days. Slowly though, I began to recover my strength till after a month or two, I was finally capable of holding a conversation without passing out every five minutes.
,,Ok, now what is that about the Chieftain?” I asked the Shaman one day when he was nursing my wounds again. He looked up from his work, then looked down and continued grinding roots into powder.
,,We lost many good men that night. Ulfred the Mighty. Egbert Stonecrusher. The list goes on. We even had the misfortune of losing our Chieftain, Tharsten Heart-Fang. And that wasn’t the end of it. Most of the surviving warriors were wounded one way or another. Three nights later, they became wolves.” He explained.
,,In the following battle, we lost more men and women. Those that took part and survived were all wounded as well. This time though, we’d learned of our mistake. They protected the village by claiming their own lives before they too would become wolves. Now the elderly and the children are all that remain. Only we, and a single survivor of the first battle. A survivor who has somehow escaped the curse of the hunter.” He added. If I felt like it, I would have let out a really long sigh.
,,Me. I guess I’ve got a powerful friend or something.”
,,Yes, you. The god that protected you from the curse has my thanks though I wish he’d protected more of our warriors. As the son of our former Chieftain and the last remaining Skaal warrior, we’ve named you as our Chieftain. Roland Wolf-Tail, we face hard times. You are the last defender of our people so I’m doing all I can to heal your wounds. Now stop talking, you’re slowing down the healingprocess.”
Well that's a unique turn of events. Ro-El is now chiefton. I wonder how he'll handle that responsibility, since he hasn't truly kept up with Skaal tradition for quite some time now. I guess we'll see.
I really liked the description of his vision, nice imagery.
Well, there is this one thing that happens in such a case. Read on.
Chieftain of the Skaal. In other words, the safety of the village was my responsibility. Mine, and that of the warriors. But seeing as how I was the only warrior left, it pretty much meant I was on my own.
,,Crap this. Vvardenfell and Solstheim? How am I supposed to protect both?”
While I had my doubts regarding my suitability as Chieftain, I could not sit and watch the events unfold like a simple spectator. The next morning, I started an argument with the shaman, some cranky old fellow going by the name of Khorne Ice-Peak.
,,You are not healed yet! You must rest, Chieftain!” He pleaded.
,,Forget about resting. I’ve got a job to do and no one is going to stop me. What would you rather have, a Chieftain who collapses while making sure the village remains safe, or a village that is destroyed because the Chieftain took a nap?” I shot back, boring my eyes into his. After a lengthy staring contest, he gave up and allowed me to do whatever I wanted, as long as I wouldn’t die on him.
I tried to roll out of my bed. Emphasis on tried, because I was stiff all over like you wouldn’t believe. That’s the price you pay from fighting werewolves and getting beaten. The moment I got a good, straight piece of firewood to use as a cane, I managed a whole lot better. At least I managed to hobble around like a man ten times my age. I had set my mind on wandering around the village in search of ideas. Before I went outside though, I decided to satisfy my curiosity with what was likely the only mirror in the village.
My reflection made me realize how close I'd come to dying. Escaping the werewolf curse was a feat worthy of songs by itself, but escaping death caused by physical injury was quite a feat as well. Four pale white lines stretched from my left shoulder to my right hip. It was a miracle that those claws had bounced off my ribs instead of simply crushing the bony obstacles. I probably wouldn’t be able to move fluidly for a long time.
I turned away from the mirror and got properly dressed. In our history, we’ve had many bare-chested heroes but I preferred some warm wool on my skin, thank you very much. I hobbled out of the building with my improvised cane and was instantly assaulted by the curse know as fame.
,,It’s Roland Wolf-Tail!”
,,Chieftain!”
,,The Wolfslayer!”
,,The wielder of Silverthorn!”
,,No, it’s called Eyesplitter!”
I threw up my hands, promptly returning both hands to my cane before I lost balance.
,,Calm down! I’m not fit enough for all that hugging!” I shouted over the collective voices of the Skaal. I also sneaked a glance down at my rapier, which I’d tied to my belt out of pure habit.
,,Silverthorn? That’s not such a bad name. Better than Eyesplitter, that’s just gross.”
My own arguments were powerless, but Khorne the shaman came to my rescue.
,,Scram! Can’t you see that the Chieftain is still wounded? Fifty lashings for the one who is still in my sight after I’ve counted to ten! One….two…..Ten!”
Everyone had bolted away as sudden as they’d come. As I said before, Khorne was a cranky old man. I nodded a thanks towards the shaman who frowned and returned to his hut. I shrugged at that and began my inspection of the village, slowly forming the beginning of a plan. The Skaal village was in the open, too much in my opinion. Sure, there had never been a need to expect an attack but times changed. I had some ideas, now I just needed to bring them into play. I looked around for the kids I knew would be stalking me. I mean, that’s what all kids do when a local ‘hero’ is in town.
,,You, you and you. Tell everyone that I want a meeting in the Greathall in half an hour.” I told them and watched them go. Being in charge had its perks.
The kids did not disappoint. They were quick runners, and not as drunk as their parents, who were mostly dead by now.
,,Alright everyone, listen up!” I shouted over the chorus of voices, both young and old.
,,Here’s the plan. There is a hill just north of the village. I want the huts to be disassembled and rebuilt on top of that hill in a circle, spread out but close enough so that they all fit on the hill. We’ll abandon the Greathall. Next, I want the strongest of you lads to go out and chop down trees. We’re going to build a wooden wall around the village, with a sturdy gate. There will be a raised walkway on the inner side of the wall for people to stand on.” I began to explain, inwardly counting down the time till the first questions.
,,Five…four…three…two…one.”
,,Why do we need to move? What use is a wall?” One old woman yelled through my explanation.
,,It’s called ‘siege warfare’. Given proper construction, a fortified location cannot be taken without siege weapons, which I seriously doubt anyone has around here. Magicka can also take down fortifications but again, there are no mages here with a mastery of Destruction. Through the wall, we’ll be able to keep the werewolves out, at least long enough to give us a chance to pick them off with the bows I want to have made. The Bosmer kept their last war from turning into a total failure by fighting defensively. It took weeks or even months for the Khajiit to take down any fortified installation and they only succeeded by starving the defenders. Now the funny thing here is, any wolf we kill is more meat for us to eat. So they can all crush themselves against those walls we’ll build for all I care.” I replied.
,,Are there any more questions? No, then I’ll continue. Now as I said, there will be bows. Next is the inclusion of a watch. All four winddirections will be watched at all times. I suggest working in eight man shifts of two hours. Also, there will be strict rationing and no alcohol.”
,,No alcohol?! What’s that good for?!” One of the kids bawled. I leaned in closer to look at the little boy. Gods, he wasn’t even six years old!
,,For one thing, you’re too young for that stuff in the first place. Also, alcohol lowers a man’s reflexes, coordination, ability to think and other things. It helps a Berserker charge, that’s true. But frankly, Berserking is an offensive technique and offense is not going to help. Consider yourself drafted into the archery corpse.” I said, bringing my full skill at intimidation into play. It wasn’t much, I admit but it works when the victim is about a third of your age, and half the size.
,,That goes for everyone! Everyone will return to or learn how to fight. We’ll have a slight lack of iron, so the arrows will be tipped with stone or ice, preferably stone. Weapons that are too heavy to wield by anyone will be melted down and turned into rapiers. Given proper training, a child with a rapier can take on ten hulking warriors with Claymores and win. You’ll also learn hand-to-hand. Real hand-to-hand, no drunken brawling. We are facing a hard battle and I don’t intend to lose. Anyone who is caught slacking will be sent to Khorne. I’m sure he knows what to do.” I shouted over the murmurs of discontent.
,,Aye, I assure you that I have a few tricks in mind for any lazy rat.” Khorne answered with a smirk.
Looks like Ro-El is getting down to business. It's about time someone cleaned up and organized the Skaal, especially with the threat of werewolves against them. Hopefully there won't be any mutiny, that would just plain be annoying to someone as busy as Ro-El.
Keep it up, jack!
Ah Jackie! You post-machine! I´ll never fully catch up with your updates! But I enjoy them immensely everytime I read´em
Very good writing.....very good indeed
A short one and the beginning of chapter 4. (I seriously feel like I've lost count though.)
Chapter 4: Bloodmoon.
Five blocks of ice had been put in a line at what was the center of the new village. Each block was about the size of a man’s head. I walked from one end of the line to the other, tapping the snow with my cane at each step. My wounds had healed for the most part and the cane was no longer necessary but I’d taken a liking to it. The cane I currently used was basically the same piece of firewood grinded down into a smooth shaft with a thicker handle at one end.
,,Alright, ice. We all know what it is so I won’t bore you with that.” I spoke, tapping the closest block of ice with my cane. The four Skaal children who stood before me looked on with interest. Two of them looked a bit tired and the other two were nearly jumping with energy. That was because I’d forced the Skaal into a strict work pattern. One third building or keeping watch, one third training and one third resting. So the tired ones had been building the wall for the last four hours and the other two had been resting.
,,Now, inside this ice there is a small stone. I want you to get it out of the ice. Any volunteers?” I continued and grinned when the largest kid, Stark Wood-Fist, took the warhammer off his back and walked up to the block of ice with it. It was obvious to him that the only way to retrieve the pebble would be by breaking the ice. I put my cane on his chest to stop him.
,,Barehanded.” I told him. Stark looked at me in a confused way, dropped the warhammer and then raised his hand above the block of ice like he would’ve raised his hammer. His hand swung down and hit the ice with a loud thud. Only a small dent and a tiny crack was his result.
I shook my head and shoved him away.
,,No no, you’re doing it all wrong. Anyone else?” I looked at the group. None of them seemed interested in taking the challenge. Why should they? Stark was the strongest and biggest among them, matching my height despite being four years younger. He was also twice my weight, all muscle. And he had an ego to match.
,,Why don’t you try it yourself, cripple?” He spat, clutching his hand. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d broken his fingers with that stupid bashing of his. Now who was the cripple here?
I levelled my eyes on him.
,,Cripple? I know a few cripples who could take you down without breaking a sweat.” I snickered. I then spun around and thrust two fingers at the ice. From the point of impact, a crack formed horizontally and grew, eventually traversing the entire block, neatly cutting it in half. I picked up the upper half and put it down next to my feet. Pebble in hand, I turned back to him.
,,I’m one of them. Now pick a new block and start practicing. You’ll be doing this for four hours each day till you succeed, got it? And no sneaky tricks with a warhammer at night.” I was interrupted by one of the lookouts who stood on the partially finished walkway.
,,Chieftain!”
I ascended the ladder to his position. Once up there, I did not need to ask what it was he’d seen. There were two things even a blind person would notice. First was the roaring pillar of fire rising up out of Lake Fjalding. This was something I’d never seen before. More important for me though, was the black cloud that had crawled over a nearby hill. Dagoth Ur’s forces had begun to move again.
,,I have no idea what it is, Chieftain.” The watch said. I shrugged and began to descent the ladder.
,,I’m going to check it out.” I told as I lowered myself onto the carpet of snow.
,,Don’t you need an escort?” The watch shouted after me. I waved him off and went through the gates. With my body back at near peak performance, my rapier at my side and a warm wolfskin around me, I wasn’t worried about my own safety. Dagoth Ur had no interest in a bunch of Nords. His interest was in me. So if that storm had decided that the time was right to finish me off, I’d rather not involve them. Besides, this was a perfect opportunity to investigate lake Fjalding. Trying to find a way into the layers of ancient Stalhrim was sacrilege under normal conditions, but who could blame me if I went to check out a possible threat towards the Skaal? As Chieftain, this was my task.
Wow, being a monk certainly has its advantages. Breaking blocks of ice with two fingers is one of em.
I have to wonder though... with all this time Ro-El has been spending up with the Skaal, I wonder how happy Zarador is. He's been stuck at that Imperial fort for quite awile now. I bet he has all the Imperials dreading their existance.
Keep it up cloudy!
Ooooo, I have no idea what is going to happen next.
Maybe our hero needs to call for some Dwemer backup?
Yeah, Zarador has been left to his own devises for quite a while now. Don't worry, I've got something planned for him. But I'm not telling!
And I love how Ro-El turned from number one wimp into number one supermonk. Who needs Corprus strenght? It's all about skill. ![]()
The ashstorm had picked up speed and even though I jogged all the way to Lake Fjalding, it was merely an arrowshot away by the time I set my first foot on the slippery Stalhrim. Frozen waves, cracked under its own weight with jagged bits sticking out everywhere, Lake Fjalding looked nothing like the lake back in Vvardenfell. I had to find a way in somehow. There had to be a hole in the ice somewhere. I would have to be careful though. One slip and I would find out just how sharp those jagged bits really were. I slided across the surface slowly, approaching the fires that still rose up out of the lake. If there was an opening, it had to be close.
The ashstorm cut off al possible escape routes before drawing in closer. They only left a path towards the fire open which wouldn’t help me. There was no way for me to avoid whatever might happen. My only option was to fight my way through somehow. I stopped my careful sliding across the slippery surface and waited for its next move. My cane fell on the ice and my rapier left its sheath with a reassuring ‘shiiiiish’. Before me, the black clouds parted, opening a seductive path out of the cage I’d been put in. Was Dagoth Ur giving me a chance to simply walk away? Why would he, after all the effort he’d put into killing me? It didn’t make sense. I stayed put.
,,Wise choice, returned one.” A man with a horribly stretched face and incredibly long fingernails spoke as he stepped out of the clouds. Another of Dagoth Ur’s minions. I wondered just what caused the Chimer to change like that. Obviously he’d succumbed to the heart but last time I saw him, he was actively trying to stop Kagrenac and destroy the heart.
,,Cut the chatter. Just tell me what you’re up to.” I replied as calmly as I could. I could feel my hands turning slippery with the growth of my fear. A few deep breaths and inner resolve was all I could do to turn the tide and remain calm.
,,Isn’t this obvious? We’re here to stop you. You are a pawn in the game played by the gods. Azura has prepared your path. She knew you would come to this place in search of Pelinal’s key. And so, she hid the key here, one of three. We are here to prevent you from reaching that key. Look around you, Dumac. There is no escape.”
I gripped Ephraim’s rapier with both hands.
,,If there’s no path, I’ll simply have to create one. Legion rule: An army without a leader is no army, only a mob.” I put all of my strength into my leap, clearing twelve metres in a single bound. The creature reacted unnaturally fast. Ice leaped from its hands. The blast hit me in midair and I absorbed it easily, thanks to both my Nordic heritage and my Atronach like talent. Upon landing, I continued to slide forward over the ice. The thing tried again when I got close, this time actually trying to physically strike me.
I dodged its blow and thrust my rapier through its heart. To my horror, the damn monster only laughed at me.
,,Is that all you have? I no longer have a heart, I no longer have a mortal weakness you can exploit. The glory of Lord Dagoth is mine, and I’m his hand of justice.” It gloated.
,,Heart or no heart, let’s see how well you deal with explosion!” I struck again, with an open palm. The creature was like, most of the Sixth House’s minions, composed off ash. My hand smashed through its face like a ballista through a pile of sand.
,,Fool! I told you I have no mortal weakness! You cannot kill me! I am immortal! An Ashvampire cannot be slain!” I backed away from it. The vampire as it called himself simply regenerated a new head to replace the one it lost. I had to find a way to defeat it somehow. Preferably before it got bored and loosed the whole storm on me.
,,The storm, that’s the key! Everytime I hit it, the storm rebuilds it. I need to keep it from rebuilding somehow.”
There was only one idea I could come up with. If I’d put the clues together correctly, there was a way to defeat that Ashvampire thing. There was only one drawback to my plan. I had to enter Lake Fjalding first. And the way things were, there was only one entrance left for me to take. I destroyed a leg and ran while it was busy regenerating. The pillar of fire rose up before me, its heat making me sweat like a mountainstream.
,,Whenever I get hit by a spell, I absorb it and keep it stored for later use. This had better work.” I stretched my hand in front of me and focussed on the power within me. I thought of cold, freezing cold that would turn the air to snow and water to ice. The coldest cold possible. With each step, I could feel the warmth around me diminish as the air condensed around me in a thick, frozen barrier. The Ashvampire should have known better than use frost on me. I leaped into the flames.
I sure hope Ro-El know what he's doing. Ashvampires are fun to fight. In actuality they're quite lethal; I'm glad you agree with me on this.
I wonder what lies underneath the depths of the lake that could potentionally defeat this immortal creature...
Yeah, they are lethal in the game though the way I portray them in this story, they have a serious weakness. yes, despite the ashstorm whirling around. It's like the Death Star's exhaust port, Sauron's ring, Spaceball one's self-destruct button.
And I promised ghosts, didn't I? Man, this is the largest collection of Dwemeric in one update. Why am I even underlining it?
It was a long drop, something which my legs complained about when I finally landed. My shield had collapsed under the intense heat a bit too soon so I rolled over the steel floor to put out the fires. Once my situation wasn’t so ‘hot’ anymore, I went to assessing my situation.
,,One, I’m suffering second-degree burnwounds which hurt a lot. Two, my clothes are wrecked and I’m pretty much naked. Three, I’m inside a Dwemer facility, probably the research facility I’ve been looking for. Four, the fire sprouts from a cracked pipe so as long as I don’t turn off the oil-feed, I won’t have to worry about the ashies coming in.”
,,It was about time someone dropped in. I kept the heater running, but I’m sure you already noticed.” A dusty voice chuckled.
,,And five, there’s a ghost with a sense of humour here.” I thought to myself and looked at the incorporeal Dwemer.
,,Mind if I change clothes?” I asked with my own sense of humour. The ghost shrugged.
,,Please, be my guest. Also, you can find some healing balm in the medical cabinet to your right. You wouldn’t be the first one who gets burned by a cracked oilpipe.”
I went for the medical cabinet first. Dignity is fine and all, but I’d rather be undignified and healthy than dignified and hurting. The balm he’d suggested was a colourless goo which felt chilling to the touch. In essence though, it was no different than your average healing potion. By accelerating and enhancing the natural healing of the body, any wound would heal within a fraction of the time required normally, even if the wound was lethal.
One of the more controversial side-effects was that rapid aging was also involved. Plenty of soldiers or gladiators had turned into grey-haired, wrinkled old men and women in their early thirties due to too much healing. Too keep up with the physically younger ones, they had to swallow potions of a different kind which in the end only worsened their problem. One of the arguments for an old word of wisdom among warriors.
He who makes the enemy bleed is good. He who keeps the enemy from making him bleed is even better.
Anyway, I was still quite young, actually barely an adult, so the aging effect wouldn’t bother me too much. I might grow a bit of a beard but not much more than that. My skin itched as if a whole swarm of fleas crawled all over me. As the itching faded, I felt new strength come to me. Not just to my skin, but to my entire body. Health had been achieved, now the dignity. I opened my enchanted pouch which had been one of the few fireproof bits of apparel on me. From its depths I procured the Stalhrim armour.
,,Nice bag.” The ghost commented.
The first thing I noticed upon putting it on was how comfortable it was. I already knew that it was a perfect fit, but I had no idea it would feel like a second skin. A light, harder-than-steel skin. Definitely fireproof as well, as Stalhrim could not be melted by any flame. And trust me, there have been plenty of attempts at melting Stalhrim. They all failed. The only reason why the fire managed to create a hole in the lake was due to simple overwhelming pressure. The pipe must have cracked years before I was even born, or reborn, whatever. Over the years, the pressure had been building and building till finally, the whole thing popped.
Which brought a new problem to my attention.
,,Is there anything left beyond that heavily fortified cabinet?” I asked the ghost. He looked at me in silence and then floated to a dark corridor.
,,Not much. There is the frozen corridor in the left wing but everything else has been blown to bits. Everything not locked inside a chest, keg or whatever. The food is spoiled though and everything else is a pile of rust. I’m really sorry about the food, cause unlike me, you’re probably not on an all-exclusive diet. Anything else?” It said with another chuckle. I never knew ghosts could laugh at their own fate. It was rather comforting though. Most adventurers I knew off only got to know the aggressive side of ghosts.
I walked towards the corridor and waved my hand. The corridor definitely felt cooler than the room I was in. The frozen corridor that had been mentioned had to be in that direction. A frozen corridor, another clue that fit with my theory.
,,Are there some explosives around? I want to crack that ice and see what's behind it.” I explained, leaning against the wall.
,,No, but there is a drill Centurion in the vault. Aren’t you tired of hard rock? Can’t lift that pick? Want the gold but not the sweat? Then Nebrighk company’s Drill Centurion MK IV may be something for you! Made from high-quality steel, this baby is designed to drill your tunnels while you sit back and get the cash. Gold, Silver, Glass, Ebony, nothing’s too hard for the Drill Centurion MK IV. Buy one today and get this plushy Netch toy and one can of oil for free! And between you and me, scientific testing has revealed that it’s also a good way to pick up women with.” A ghost with humour indeed.
Half an hour later, I had set up the Drill Centurion. While the ghost’s advertising had lied about the plushy Netch toy, it had been spot on when it boasted about the drill’s quality. Watching an oversized Kwama forager roll forward on a dozen wheels and slowly drill its way through the ice was quite interesting to watch.
,,So, what are you doing here anyway?” I asked my host while we waited.
,,Well, I’m just hanging around you know. But to tell you the truth, I’d hoped to do something else. I’m Nebrighk the second, and the inventor of that wonderful drill. Know what? You can keep it! It’s not that I have any use for money anyway. I can’t give you the plushy Netch though, the mice got to it first. How did those beasts get in here anyway?” It begun, its laugh fading.
,,Gotta stay on topic. I was quite the ambitious lad, so I jumped at the chance to aid the great Kagrenac in a Centurion test! He’d sent me a package with new brains for the Centurions. All I had to do was to put them in the sphere’s and activate them. Only those things went on a rampage and killed everyone except me. I must’ve done something wrong there.”
So that was the secret behind the Dwemer’s utter defeat. Kagrenac telling naïve young Dwemer to help him in his research, in effect telling them to destroy their own kind. It was simple, yet it had been horribly effective. I wished Kagrenac was still alive. Then I could give him a proper punishment for his crimes.
,,You didn’t do anything wrong. Kagrenac was a lying monster who wiped out everyone.” I spoke with seething anger.
,,And how do you know, kid? You’re just a Nord. Kagrenac is the greatest master of our people. His works are amazing! Say, we’ve been talking Dwemer all the time. Where did you pick that up?”
,,I’m a reincarnated Dwemer. One of his victims.” I explained and waited for the Dwemer to continue.
,,A Dwemer reincarnating as a Nord? Ah, why not? Ok, then Kagrenac played me for a fool. Argh! I’ll tell you the rest of my story if you do me a favour. Wipe that bug out if you run into him. Of course you will, I can see it in your eyes. Good, now I couldn’t leave this place because it’s so damn cold outside and no airships would come. A week after the slaughter though, a Dwemer lass came in. Oh boy, skin like marble, eyes like sapphires. Just thinking of her makes me feel better. She carried a very odd sword with her. For one thing, it looked like a mix between Dwemer work and that Nord Ice stuff you’re wearing right now. For the other thing, it was cold! I swear, the temperature dropped to near zero the moment she brought that thing in. She put it there and when she left, she turned me in a ghost somehow. To atone, she said.”
Dwemer steel, Stalhrim and a potent frost enchantment. Only one blade matched that description. Forgeheart, one of Pelinal’s keys. After a few hours, the Drill had finished its work and stopped. Forgeheart stuck out of the ice, looking brand-new despite the long years it had spent in there. I gripped the hilt with a mixture of new experience and old remembrance. Its power filled the room, coursing through my body, reflecting off the walls.
,,Forgeheart, the ice-key. Nebrighk, I give you my word that I’ll right the wrong you’ve suffered. I swear it on this blade, which was once wielded by Dumac himself.” I spoke solemnly and swung it around. Its balance was nothing short of perfect and despite its massive appearance, it was as light as my rapier. The ghost smiled and nodded, gesturing at its heart. I knew what it had asked without words.
,,As you wish.” I whispered and plunged Forgeheart into his spiritual body.
,,Thank you. I can feel the cold. Finally, I can say leave this world. Farewell, friend.”
Oooo Forgeheart sounds badass. I really like the fact that Ro-El gave mercy to that ghost, very much like the Dwemer he should be.
Now time to wipe out some baddies!
Sorry, but I got distracted from writing. Anyway, after writing the last update, I got my hands itching for another take on Forgeheart. I wasn't entirely satisfied with it.
Ok, the new Forgeheart still isn't perfect, (blade and crossguard specifically) but it looks much better now in my opinion. The runes are Daedric because I was too lazy to actually search for Dwemeric. Ah well, another plothole for Ro-El to break his head over.
If you can't read the admittedly fuzzy writing, it says two things.
I AM FORGEHEART (near the hilt.)
TURN TO ICE AND SHATTER (From the tip to the I AM FORGEHEART bit. The order of the words is backwards though. Oops.)
Big overall render. No background because I felt lazy.

And a close-up of the hilt. I like the newer version of the crossguard which flows over the blade a bit more. Also notice the new addition of a shiny metal ring to hold the gem at the pommel.
And just for comparison, here's the old render again. Yeah, I switched back to the orange blade.
Oh how I love looking at cool swords! Neat effects. I can tell you put some good work into this. Thanks for sharing!
You're better than I am Jack, I hardly have time for posting updates to my stories..... I don't even know how to make models and post screenshots.
The screenshotting is simple. Just use photobucket and you're set.
The modelling is a bit harder and I'm by all means still an amateur. Milanius makes some terrific weapons.
I personally use Wings3D. It's easy, it's not too hard on the computer and best of all.....it's free. I started with Blender which is also free yet a heck of a lot more powerful. Only, I couldn't wrapped my mind around it even after turning into rubber. So Wings3D is my thing, even though it lacks some features like animating and particle effects. It goes from right-click, left-click, right-click, left-click and hey......I've got a model.
Anyway, back to the update.
It did something to me. The way Nebrighk had been doomed to wandering this forsaken place for eternity, all because of Kagrenac and his plans. The heart of Lorkhan, or whatever it was that granted godlike powers to those who used it, was one evil thing. Last time it had taken the life of my people. Who would pay the price now? We all would, if no one would stop Dagoth Ur. I sat down against the wall with a heavy heart. Forgeheart lay at my feet, in a thick layer of frozen dust.
Just what was the point of it all? Why was I doing this? To prove something? I was Dwemer but what good did that fact do me? Dust, cracked steel and stories, that’s what we’ve become. Stories to keep the children in line.
,,Eat your vegetables, or the evil Dwemer will put you in his bag and have you work in his mine.” Dust, cracked steel and stories. Any act on my part would be meaningless to change our reputation. Not that it mattered. I was the last Dwemer alive and even then, I had the body of a Nord. So by all means, the last Dwemer was dead.
And what about Dagoth Ur? Even if he’d gotten his power through treachery, he was still a god. How do you kill a god? You don’t, you just hide in a corner and hope he ignores you. There was no way Dagoth Ur could be killed. Even his minion was pretty much invincible.
,,Wipe that bug out if you run into him.” That’s what Nebrighk had said. I promised him I would right the wrongs we’d suffered and what did I do instantly after putting him to rest? I crawl up against a wall and drown myself in self-pity!
I stood up brusquely and snatched Forgeheart from the cold floor. My blood burned with the fury of a berserker. I’d made a promise, and I’d be damned if I was going to break it five seconds after swearing an oath! I’d promised Nebrighk, I’d promised the Duke, Nerevar, Vivec, Almalexia, Sotha Sil, my people and……I promised Voryn Dagoth. I would free anyone who suffered under Lorkhan’s heart. That was my purpose, that was why I came all the way here looking for a sword. I would stop Voryn Dagoth, and free him from the curse he’d unwillingly put on himself. I no longer hated him, I pitied him. He’d tried to destroy the heart but in the end, he just became its slave. I would free him from his shackles, no matter how hard it might be.
But to do that, I had to be prepared. I couldn’t just walk in and do whatever I would do. The Dwemer place I was in was a research facility. It was heavy on paper yet light on weapons. The paper had been lost long ago, but the few weapons it had were still there in the vault where the Drill Centurion had been parked. I went there first. Not for a weapon, for every weapon it contained couldn’t even compete with Forgeheart’s shadow. All I needed was a small, flat box about the size of a small book.
People think that everything we Dwemer made was made out of metal. They’re wrong. Sure, we used a lot of metal, perhaps more than was healthy but we also used our fair share of wood, fabrics and ropes. Only most of these materials have been devoured by rats and time. The box I was holding was made out of metal, with a slit on one side and several attachment points for leather straps at the corners. I had a few spare sheets of leather just in case I lost my belt Like a short while ago. I could cut up a sheet right now and make the box whole again.
I set to work and within a few minutes, I could tie the little box to my back like a backpack. Once it was in place, it was time to practice. I felt around with a hand till I found the concealed button. A press, a swoosh, a light tugging at my back and a shift in balance. I felt behind me and noticed the shape of a full-sized scabbard. It was a bit of a paradox. Even at our peak, all of our living warriors could be counted on both hands yet still we went so far as inventing collapsible scabbards.
A collapsible scabbard is quite an ingenious design. It is commonly known that as a sword grows in length, the potential damage it can do increases. At the same time though, a larger scabbard is needed to hold the blade and large scabbards tend to get in the way of the limbs. As a result, many people are forced to either keep their scabbard under control with one hand or move carefully and slower than they should. On the other end of the spectrum, there are those who simply use no scabbard at all or throw the scabbard away at the onset of battle, therefore keeping maximum mobility and both hands. But storing a sword without a scabbard can be awkward.
Bring in a collapsible scabbard of Dwemer design. As the name suggests, it is capable of folding up into a small volume, perfect for during battle. At the same time, it can unfold and store the sword when out of battle. And it doesn’t end here. Unfolding is done by simply pressing a small button which is located there where it is easy to reach yet won’t be triggered by accident. The folding is fully automatic and triggered by the sword being drawn. Not just that, but a powerful spring literally launches the sword into the waiting hands of its wielder at the same time. The result is maximum comfort, standard storage capacity and one of the quickest draws in Tamriel.
But of course, nothing is perfect. The mechanism was a bit dusty and had to be cleaned before I got the maximum speed out of it. After that, it was back to drawing practice. A sword that draws itself is something else than a sword that has to be forced to leave the scabbard. The first time, I missed completely and had to pull Forgeheart out of the ceiling. The second time, I grabbed to soon and my hands came into painful contact with the pommel. The third time, my thumb got in the way of the hilt. The fourth time, I nailed the timing. Once there, it was a simple matter of practicing till drawing the sword had become as natural as breathing, only a lot more deadly for whoever had the misfortune of standing in the way. After drawing, it was an easy trick to use the push of the spring to power a downward blow, thereby chaining draw and strike together in one really quick motion.
I practiced a bit more just to make sure I’d mastered the trick behind it. Now, I had to wipe the smirk off that Ashvampire’s face. Ok, so he might be immortal, but who said I was going to kill him?
Wow, that collapsable scabbard IS a handy invention. I want one!
Unlike some of my other inventions, this one might actually work. The only limiting factor is the size of the springs and gears inside. Too small, and Forgeheart can't be launched properly. Too big, and the whole thing loses its primary purpose as a collapsible scabbard.
Anyway, short one.
The Ashvampire hadn’t lost its smug expression when I rose up out of the pit from on top of the Wing.
,,Well, I must say you’ve managed to impress me. Right now, I thought you were died, turned to ash. Get it? Turned to ash!” He also had a lousy sense of humour. That was not a funny joke. He stopped laughing in the end and got serious.
,,So, did you find the key?” He asked, leaving me no doubt that if I wanted to live, I would give it to him. Or at least, that’s what he thought.
,,Sure, I found it. Why?” I asked and slowly moved closer.
I already knew why the Sixth House desired the keys. Something struck me as odd, though. Voryn Dagoth had been there when Pelinal was activated for the first time. He knew what the keys were. Three swords, all forged by Kagrenac. Trueflame, Hopesfire and Forgeheart. I couldn’t believe he’d actually neglected to tell his servant what exactly he had to look for. Forgeheart’s pommel was not exactly something you’d ignore. Frankly, a polished, glowing gem of Stalhrim that was partially hidden in the mist of its own power would be the first thing it should notice. I looked closer and saw that he had noticed my sword and did not know what to make from it. I couldn’t believe it, but the Ashvampire had no idea what the keys actually were!
,,Good! Give it to me! I’ll let you keep that crummy bit of rust you’ve picked up. I bet you’ve grown attached to it. Isn’t that how you Nords are, all in love with your sword?” Yup, no idea at all. I took one last step closer. I could draw right now but if my plan was to succeed, I had to distract him somehow. But how do you distract an ancient and possibly semi-immortal being?
,,You mean the Dark Elf who’s soiling the floor over there? Nothing special. He was going through this dreadfully boring speech about how he was going to kill me for the greater glory of his lord and blablabla, more of that Guardung. I slipped a sword into his heart while he was working his tongue. I’m a busy guy, I don’t have time for speeches.” The Nerevarine’s words suddenly popped up in my head for no good reason. I had no time to ponder his awfully annoying manners, or his cocky attitude. Cocky attitude and bad manners, that was it!
I brought out the biggest and most smug grin in my life.
,,Sure we do, nothing like a good sword to warm your bed. If it wasn’t necessary for the survival of our people, everyone would be marrying swords instead of women. Now why don’t you hobble over to good old Voryn and give him a message? Tell him that I believe he’s the most sorriest bit of wet meat I’ve ever met. To actually hang out with losers like you, so disappointing. From a friend of Nerevar, I’d expected better.” I quipped. The Ashvampire flew into a rage, both due to the insults I’d aimed at his master and the insult I’d aimed at him.
,,Pathetic left-over of the Dwemer! I’ll take your key, and your life!” He shouted and lunged at me.
I brought an arm up behind me. With a swoosh, Forgeheart flew up into my waiting hand while the scabbard began to fold. I used the momentum of the sword to launch myself forward. Being already in the air, the creature could not avoid my attack. The ancient blade bit deep into his chest, searching for the heart that was no longer there.
,,Fool! I already told you, I’m immortal! Is it that hard to get through your thick skull?!” He shrieked when we both landed. Forgeheart was still embedded into its chest. I could see how the ashstorm around us grew a tentacle that reached for the Ashvampire.
,,You can have the key, pointy bit first!” I shouted back at it and released Forgeheart’s true power, which I’d been holding back up to this point.
His body turned white as it began to freeze at a rapid pace. The tentacle made contact with his neck, just when the freezing reached it as well. Forgeheart’s influence jumped over onto the tentacle, spreading through it. I waited, not daring to either pull out the sword or try to push it even further. The ice spread all around me, throughout the ashstorm. The sound of ice shattering and boulders falling rumbled in my ears. The frozen ashstorm could no longer support its own weight. Still, I kept my blade in place. Only an hour later did I remove it and return the sword to its scabbard. I was standing inside a circular wall, with one small arc leaping over to a large statue.
,,I may not be able to kill you, but I can make sure you won’t stand in my way again. Enjoy your new home.” I chuckled and walked away. I mounted the Wing and abandoned the site.
Note: I just realized how powerful I made Forgeheart sound. Freezing an Ashvampire and a whole ashstorm?
Now that's what I call uber.
Wow, uber indeed. I'm liking that sword more and more and it's neat that you made Pelinal's keys the swords. Rather ingenius if I do say so. Now I'm very curious as to how he'll get the other two...
Tribunal anyone? Man, Tribunal fan-fics are getting as common as rain. In a good way, we all want to see everyone's different take on that story.
Hmmmm.... Maybe I should write a Tribunal fan-fic once I finally finish Bloodlust ![]()
Just kidding - I think I all ready got my next idea planned.
Hmm, I'll write a Tribunal fanfic, you can count on that.
I dismounted as soon as I cleared the lake. I needed time, time to think. My whole world had been plunged into a hostile chaos. Werewolves here, some mad god back home. Home? Yes, Ebonheart was my home. While my life with the Skaal hadn’t been that bad, I’d never felt like I fit in. To me, Ebonheart was the home I never had.
Two eyes glinted in the growing darkness. Night was about to arrive and with it, the Werewolves. At first the Skaal had been in denial, so had I. Now though, we could no longer ignore the signs, not with half the village and all the capable warriors dead. The Bloodmoon prophecy was about to be fulfilled.
Behold, the Dragon’s breath shall fail in the west, the darkness shall storm the lands in to the south. The moons shall grow red with blood and all men, women, all capable of holding a sword, axe or hammer, shall perish under tooth and fang.
Then, the Hunter shall come and lay claim to this world. Yet, he shall seek the challenge, give us a chance, however small. Four champions shall he seek. The Dragon’s servant, the beast of ice, the Wolf’s champion and the Steel God’s soul. These four will he bring to his castle, far up to the north. There, the greatest hunt of all shall be held with our world as price. Against the invincible enemy shall they fight and fall, in an arena lit by the moons.
Those words were only part of the prophecy yet to me, they were the most important. The Steel God’s soul. If that wasn’t a reference to me, then who else could be meant?
These four will he bring to his castle, far up to the north. I would go to that place, either out of free will or by force.
Against the invincible enemy shall they fight and fall, in an arena lit by the moons. The Bloodmoon prophecy wasn’t very optimistic. The chance that I would die there was great, though a prophecy was never set in stone. I might survive, but it would be one heck of a gamble.
This prophecy was about to be fulfilled, but I had no time for this. Before I was called, I had to free Voryn Dagoth back home. I had to find the last two keys and Pelinal. The last two keys were Trueflame and Hopesfire. I didn’t knew what had happened at Red Mountain after my death, but I could still hazard a guess towards the last two blades’ locations.
Nerevar was dead, so he had probably been buried in a way fitting for a warleader of the Chimer. He would have been brought to a fantastic mausoleum, and buried in full armour. His sword, Trueflame had probably been buried with him. While the idea of raiding a tomb did not appeal to me, I had to admit it was my best chance at finding the sword of fire. Even then, there were complications. The gossip had been quite strict regarding Trueflame. When Nerevar died, Trueflame turned to dust. I found that hard to believe. After all, Forgeheart had survived my death. No, the likely explanation was that Trueflame had been lost somehow, or never recovered. Maybe it was still inside Pelinal? If so, then why hadn’t the Great Centurion revealed itself yet?
Hopesfire was Almalexia’s blade. In this case, I was practically certain of its location. It was where it had always been, at her side. To find her I only had to walk into her temple, somewhere in Mournhold. But the Almalexia I knew was a mortal, the Almalexia who lived was not. She was now a god, and another victim of Lorkhan’s heart. Even if I managed to gain entry without being slaughtered by her guards, even if I managed to reach her, even if I managed to convince her that I was indeed Dumac, she would not give up her sword. She could not afford to revive Pelinal and the power it represented. We were enemies now, and we’d never been friends. Call it childish, but I hated her for the rift she made between Nerevar and I. While those feelings had diminished with my new life, they had not yet entirely faded away.
So I knew where to look for the blades, but I did not know where to start looking for Pelinal itself. And then there was the Bloodmoon. I had to find Pelinal and defeat the Sixth House soon, before I was taken by the Hunter. What should I do?
I returned to the village in silence. Any attempt from the Skaal to converse with me were brushed away by this silence. There were quite a few remarks regarding my new armour and sword which I ignored as well. I entered the rebuilt hut of the shaman. Khorne looked up from a game he was playing with a collection of knucklebones. One side of the knucklebones was marked with a small cross.
,,Aye, Chieftain. Care to bet?” He said to me. I shook my head and sat down.
,,No, I don’t gamble.”
Khorne rolled his knucklebones out on the carpet. The point of the game was to get five crosses with three throws. Each cross was worth one point. He rolled one. Shaking his head, he picked up the four without the cross and rolled them again, this time achieving three crosses in total. He should now try to roll the last two, thereby keeping the crosses he already had.
,,Don’t like to bet the long odds, eh? I can see that you’re worried about something.” He spoke, looking at his knucklebones.
,,Yeah, the Bloodmoon.” I replied.
He looked up.
,,The Bloodmoon? You’re no fool, Roland. Everyone knows the prophecy yet no one dares to admit it. I believe I know what you’re thinking. You don’t want to hear this, but you’re right. When you were born, I called out a vision of your future. I saw you as you were now, facing the Werewolves in a castle of ice. You will be called by the Hunter. All I can say is, you should prepare for it.” He advised me with a slight frown. I looked at him and tried to decide whether or not I should tell him why I was worried. I decided to tell him.
,,There is a battle I have to fight, and it’s not here. I need to find my battlefield before the Hunter comes for me, or I’ll never be able to win it. But I don’t know where to look and even if I did, the chance that I find my battlefield before the Hunter comes is laughable. If I go, I’ll never make it and if I don’t go, I’ll never make it either.” I revealed and threw my hands up into the air.
,,Long odds, eh?” Khorne nodded. With one deft swipe, he picked up all five knucklebones and threw them back down. Five crosses.
,,Sometimes, you have to bet on the long odds. Go, Chieftain. Find your battle. You have taught us the lesson we had to learn. I’ll continue your work here.” He got up and looked out of the door.
,,Leave at midnight, I’ll distract the guards.”
I left at midnight as he’d said, slipping through a crack in the unfinished wall.
,,Sometimes, you have to bet on the long odds.” I made up my mind and took the gamble. I gambled that I would find Pelinal in time and that Forgeheart was enough to bring it out of its slumber. Theoretically, only one key was needed. There were three aspects to Pelinal, the offensive, the defensive and the mobile aspect. Forgeheart was the key to its mobile aspect, focussing on Pelinal’s movements. I could fight with one key, but it would be one big gamble. Only if all three keys were used, would Pelinal show off its true power which wasn’t just the sum of its three aspects, but a multiplication of the sum. I would focus on finding Pelinal and use Forgeheart to awaken the Steel God.
OMG, you've worked Tribunal in as well now! This is gonna get complicated. ![]()
What blockie just said....It´s sure gonna be complicated! And yes there are quite some Tribunal.fics going on....I dare say I´m hesitating just playing the darn thing...to me it seems scary...
Good read as always Jackie!
Hmmmm, intriguing and logical thoughts made by Roland. I'll be curious to see how effective Pelinal is without offense or defense, because wouldn't at least offense be needed to actually damage something? But maybe offense and defense in this case are additional abilities/extensions to Pelinal and that with motion, Pelinal can still hit something.
Keep it going, good sir!
I'm nearing the end! Goody, I might actually manage to keep this one in a single thread!
As for Pelinal, I was indeed thinking about extensions. As long as Pelinal can move, it can fight, especially with Ro-El's knowledge of unarmed combat brought into play. If anything, it can defeat most foes simply by stepping on them.
This time, I did not take my time. I brought out the Wing as soon as I was out of sight and then raced it all the way back to the Cloudcleaver. I arrived somewhere in the early morning, with an aching back. Long periods of flying can be uncomfortable. With the cold and the occasional gust of wind, I definitely wasn’t going to feel any better.
As such, I was quite happy when I finally caught sight of the airship. It was still in the same place where I’d left it, though what looked like market had grown around it. Odd. Zarador had better not been selling off my Centurions. Well, after I stole his own Centurion from him, he deserved to steal some of mine. Besides, I always had more where the first batch came from. I landed on deck and told the Wing to take up position at the starboard side. I then walked up to the door leading to the huts and banged on it with a fist.
,,What? Who is it?” A grumpy old Altmer said as he opened the door.
,,Ro-El! It was about time you showed yourself again! Do you have any idea how long you’ve been away?” He spoke loudly once he’d recognized me.
,,There were complications.” I replied with a shrug.
I should have recognized that gleam in his eyes. I should have warned him. Unfortunately, I didn’t.
,,Complications? It looks more like you’ve been wasting your time by raiding tombs! Say, can I take a look at that sword? It looks somewhat familiar.” He said and reached over my head for the hilt.
,,Aieh!” He shrieked and witdrew the hand half a second later. The once golden skin had taken on a pale marble hue. I was as much surprised as he was. Apparently, only I could hold Forgeheart without having my limbs frozen. Whether it was due to me being Dumac or my connection with Pelinal, I didn’t know. It could be both.
,,Careful. Its hilt is as dangerous as the blade.” I warned and pulled a rag from the railing and wrapped it around the hand. The rag was half-frozen as well, but it would do once the sorcerer had warmed it up a bit with a fireball.
,,So I noticed. Which brings me back to what I was saying. I’ve seen a sword like that before, once before. In Mournhold when I came there to visit. I saw it on…”
,,Nevermind that. We’ve got things to do. Like getting back to Morrowind yesterday.” I cut him off. It came as a bit of a surprise that he had seen Hopesfire, but it wasn’t important now.
Zarador shook his head.
,,Always on the move. Youngsters these days don’t know how to relax.” He muttered, cast a spell of Telekinesis and lifted a chest over the railing. A small fountain of snow showed where it landed. I went over to the steering wheel and brought us up in the air. Only when we were heading back to Morrowind did I bother to ask.
,,So, what was in the chest?” Zarador took the chance to launch into a lengthy explanation regarding the alchemical properties of local plants and animals. In short, he’d made some money by acting as the fort’s alchemist and now he didn’t want to leave without giving them his store of potions. And his homebrew whiskey.
,,Which reminds me. Zarador, did you by any chance find out just why that fort is a ruin? The village right next to it looks brand new.” I asked. We had retreated below deck where there was a good fire. Actually it was a small forge but a fire is a fire and if your beard is getting frozen off outside, you’re not going to be picky regarding the source of the fire.
,,It is new, and so is the fort. But just two days before we arrived, the place was raided by quote: ‘wolves that walked like men’. They left the whole place in ruin.” Werewolves, dang.
,,They lost a few people during the attack, including their healer. The East Empire company has been reluctant to send replacements to this frozen waste. As long as the money and Ebony keeps rolling in, they see no reason to bother with helping out. Now what have you been up to?”
I told Zarador everything that had happened. Including my trip around the island and my encounter with Aevar. Everything, except my meeting with Nebrighk. I believed that now he’d finally found his death, I should not end his peace by bringing up his name or anything like that. I did tell him about Forgeheart, how it was connected to Pelinal, and how I was connected to the steel god as well. I told him a few things about the Bloodmoon prophecy and about the werewolves, but not how I was chosen by the Hunter. By the time I’d finished talking, the sun had sank into the sea and the moons had taken over its throne in the sky.
We bade each other good night and went to our respective cabins. Me, being the arrogant reincarnation of the Dwemer king, had the big and luxurious captain’s cabin. It wasn’t as big as my bedroom at Dren plantation, but it sure came close. There was room enough for combat practice, enough room to try out all the flips and spins that were the trademark of the Floating Butterfly style. Enough room for mayor trouble.
A low growling sound woke me up from my exhausted slumber. Oddly enough, my body felt rejuvenated even though my soul lacked the nourishment only a full night’s sleep could provide. This was not on my mind though. On my mind were the dozen or so werewolves who’d crammed themselves inside the cabin with me. They all gazed upon me, looking hungry yet…..restrained. Restrained or not, I was still scared out of my wits. It was too soon. Too soon.
,,Fear not, my son. I am with you.” I looked at the ghostlike ring around my finger. Aevar was right. He was with me and I had nothing to fear.
,,Those who know no fear are reckless fools. Those who know fear and overcome it are invincible.”
I had calmed down. As calm as if I was just going for a stroll through Ebonheart’s courtyard, I picked up my armour from under the bed and put it on. I then took Forgeheart and its sheath from the rack. After that, I looked back at the werewolves.
,,I’m ready.”
There was a dizzying sense of movement, like tumbling into the depths of a bottomless well. When the blurriness that clouded my sight vanished, I found myself inside a large chamber, surrounded by walls of ice. I shivered and noticed that somehow, I’d become soaked in water.
,,Welcome, prey.” The Hunter said to me. He looked like a Nord, only taller and with a Deer’s skull covering his face. In his hands he held a spear that resonated with power. This was it, the Bloodmoon, the greatest hunt ever. The Riestaag among Riestaags.
,,Three others have gone before you. You must follow them and find a way into the center of the maze that starts behind me. If you meet them, kill them. Only one of you will make it to the end, one of you will be the ultimate prey. There, if you survive, you will be granted the right to battle me. But to fight me in all my glory would be unfair, so I shall limit the fight to only one of my aspects. If somehow you manage to survive this last ordeal, you will be returned to your proper place. Now go.” He said to me and vanished. There was a gap in the wall at the far end of the room.
He’d given me the rules to the game. There was nothing left to do but to play along. I took a deep breath, drew Forgeheart, readied my shield and entered the maze.
There was to be said something about the architecture. With most mazes, there is the ability to keep track of one’s direction by looking at the sun or the stars. If those are unavailable, like when the maze is underground, there is still the light coming from the entrance. This time though, there was none of it. The only light seemed to come from the ice itself, evenly divided in all directions. The only way to keep track was to pay attention to which turns I took. I began by turning right.
Right away, I came in contact with the first obstacle. A werewolf jumped at me. I tried to dodge but I hadn’t accounted for the extra size my shield represented. Trice my weight in hungry predator slammed against it and made me fall. Its claws hammered at my shield, its fangs tried to chew down on the Steel rim. I stabbed up with Forgeheart and crawled away before the now frozen creature could crush me. That went less than perfect and it told me that I was not suited for the ‘sword and shield’ style. It would be better for me if I got rid of it and used the freed up hand for some good old punching. I stashed the shield in my pouch and ventured further.
For what felt like two hours but could just as well have been two minutes, I met no other werewolves. That changed though when I rounded the umpteenth corner.
,,Yah! Die, monster!” A coarse man’s voice echoed through the maze. I stopped walking and pressed my back against the wall in an attempt to blend in with the ice. Someone was out there, trying to get through the maze just like me. Hircine had said that only one of us was to survive this ordeal. But was it right to act like this, every man for himself?
,,Stuff it. I’m going to help.”
,,For Resdayn! Dwemer, Chimer, unite!” I shouted a battlecry of my own to distract the wolves and rushed further through the maze to meet my fellow prey. Ironically, the first cry I could come up with was the one Dumac had used when the Nords invaded Vvardenfell. A Nord shouting a battlecry once used to rally an army against Nords, how ironic.
I rounded five more corners before I reached an open area. There, an Imperial was fighting against three werewolves simultaneously while two more wolves lie nearby. He was dressed in Templar’s armour and waved around the traditional broadsword. A Legionnaire captain. One of the wolves saw me and decided I was a juicier target. Like all of its kind, it started with a straightforward jump. I stepped around it and drove Forgeheart into its hip as it passed. The beast crashed into the floor, unable to remain standing with one leg frozen. I struck again, cutting into its neck. Before I’d been able to withdraw the ancient sword, it had already frozen the thing’s brain.
I turned to the captain who was still fighting and so far had managed to avoid injury somehow. His armour bore the signs it had been instrumental in preventing injury. There were plenty of dents and scratches in the fine steel that was crafted by only the finest smiths in the legion.
,,I’m here to help!” I called out and struck a werewolf that had been about to tear away at the man’s unprotected left side. The creature let out a pained yelp and died when I drove my sword into its skull. Despite being primarily a monk, fighting with the overpowered Forgeheart proved to be more effective than using my traditional hand and footwork. Together, we had little problems dispatching the last one.
The Imperial leaned on his sword and wiped the sweat from his face with one hand.
,,I never thought this Hircine would choose someone so young. Still, I owe you, kid. Falx Carius, Knight of the Imperial Dragon, at your service. Say, you are familiar with the rules, are you?” He spoke, drawing a deep breath after each word. So this was the Dragon’s servant. I nodded.
,,Yeah, but I don’t want to follow them. We’re stuck on the same boat. It’s sink or swim and frankly, I prefer to swim. Two are stronger than one. By the way, I’m Ro-El Frost, a servant of Duke Dren of Ebonheart.” I answered. Carius smiled.
,,Good answer, kid. He may be a god, but he sure isn’t my god. My god tells that a man should stand by the side of his friends. I’m with you, and you’re with me. If he’s got a problem with that, so be it.” He grunted and waved with his Broadsword at the door on the other end of the chamber.
,,That door either leads to Hircine, or to another part of this cursed maze. Well then, Ro-El ready to proceed? For a servant you seem to be quite capable in combat, not to mention in possession of a most peculiar suit of armour and an even more peculiar sword. It fits the environment.” He continued. I loosened the muscles in my shoulder and began to walk towards the door. Obviously I had to work on my skills with swords heavier than a rapier. My arm got all tensed up after just a few blows.
,,Let’s just say I have fought in a war. A long time ago. The sword is a souvenir.”
Things are unexpectedly moving to completion, well, bloodmoon-wise, anyway. Very cool! ![]()
The homebrew whiskey line is a nice touch. ![]()
The mayor trouble thing? Well if a dozen werewolves manage to cram themselves inside your room, it has to be a big room. And a werewolf means trouble. A dozen, mayor trouble.
The door was heavy, like Ebony. Carius only barely managed to open it. Sink or swim indeed. If I’d decided on every man for himself, I would be left with a door I couldn’t open. As it was now, I slipped through once he’d opened a gap wide enough for me to pass. I circled around the opening on the other side and kept an eye out for trouble. Carius forced the door open completely and then took up position next to me.
,,Well, no reindeerskull here.” He muttered, shifting his helmet for a better view. I agreed with him. Hircine wasn’t here.
,,But we’re not the first to pass.” I replied.
Dead werewolves littered the corridor we were in. Someone had been here before and done a quite thorough job at killing everything that moved. Carius crouched down at one of the wolves and inspected the body.
,,Hmm, judging by the shape of the wounds and the crushing of the bones, the weapon used was some sort of spiked maze. The blood looks frozen at some areas yet remotely liquid at others. Hmm, a freezing enchantment like on your sword seems probable. Less intense though.”
I was still circling around in case not all wolves were dead and smashed beyond recognition.
,,Blunt, spikey and freezing? No kidding.” I thought out loud. Carius looked up.
,,You are familiar with that instrument?” He asked. He looked rather stern though I knew it was just because he was a bit stressed. Any moment we could be jumped by a dozen hungry creatures each bigger and heavier than we were.
,,Yeah, I know who uses such a weapon. Tharsten Heart-Fang. My father you might call him. If he’s still alive, we only have to follow the trail of blood and corpses.”
We both followed. Carius kept pushing up the pace and I kept dragging him back. The old me would probably run ahead, shouting Tharsten’s name. The new me knew that doing so would be asking to get killed and ripped apart very painfully. Carius glanced at me more than he kept his eyes on the lookout for trouble. Obviously he was surprised at my lack of recklessness.
We found him in the end, lying on top of a pile of corpses.
,,Tharsten!” I finally shouted the name that had been held back in my throat till now. The former Chieftain looked weakly at the direction of my voice.
,,That voice….Roland? Urgh…..so he chose you as well.” He whispered with bloodstained lips. I knelt down beside him.
,,Don’t talk, Tharsten. Your Berserking has left you wounded.” I told him. He shook his head with the power he still had left.
,,No…I must talk. Listen, the Hunter has a weakness…….his pride….He’ll underestimate you…..Fight like no Skaal….would fight….Surprise him.”
I put my hand on his mouth to keep him from talking.
,,Hush, father. I won’t lie to you. You’re dying.” I interrupted him. Perhaps it was harsh, but it was exactly what he would expect of a Skaal. Death is natural. To die a warrior’s death is an honour, if fought for the right cause.
,,Roland…You called me…father. Thanks…..See you in Sovngarde.” With those words, the Chieftain of the Skaal passed on. Surrounded by the corpses of his enemies, his hands still clutching the Stalhrim mace.
,,Yeah, see you there someday.”
For a while, I was lost to the world around me. Tharsten had passed on. The man who raised me in my earliest years lay dead on the cold ice. Dead, because some god was bored. Dead, just to entertain Hircine. I vaguely felt Carius’ hand on my shoulder.
,,My condolences, Ro-El.”
I stood up and pushed his hand away.
,,Don’t. Don’t make a mockery of his death with condolences.” I said. The Imperial’s eyes widened.
,,What?” He muttered half in shock. I felt a sting of regret for what I’d said. It had sounded too harsh. I’d verbally punished him for meaning well.
,,My apologies. Tharsten was a Skaal. He was infected with the curse of the werewolf. I saw it happen. It was only a matter of time before he would become one of them. He died like a Skaal would in such a situation. Fighting his enemies with no regard for his own safety. He was dead already, before we found him. What I’m trying to say is, he died fighting an enemy of the Skaal. To us, that is the greatest honour possible.” I said with a sigh.
Carius stepped away and peered into the distance.
,,I understand.” Was all he said. I took the time to close Tharsten’s eyes before I joined my ally.
,,Then let’s make that so-called god pay for all he’s done. We’ll leave Tharsten here. Let this place be a palace to sing his glory.” I spoke and together we continued through the maze till we found another door. Carius moved in like before to open it.
,,Steel god’s soul, Dragon’s servant, Wolf’s champion.”
Carius stopped what he was doing and turned towards me.
,,What are you mumbling?” He asked calmly.
,,The beast of ice. We Skaal have a prophecy regarding this. So far, it has been painfully accurate. So I’m going to place my bets and say that it is right all the way. There are four challengers in this game. You….Tharsten and me makes three. Now if I managed to get the pattern in my head, that means that we’ll find the last challenger beyond that door. And the title of the prophecy tells me that he’s not human.” I explained just as calm.
Carius looked at the heavy door that stood in our path.
,,A beast of ice? Well I didn’t ask to come here, I didn’t even ask to come to Frostmoth. I hate the cold! It pisses me off. And when I’m pissed off, no beast had better stand in my way! Forward we go!” He roared. I held back a chuckle. He was pumping up both himself and me. But he was right though. We could only go forward. I moved into position while he heaved the door open. Once open far enough, I jumped through.
I had reached the end of the maze. There were no cramped tunnels here, no howling wolves. I stood in a large circular chamber, on a walkway above a huge pit. Stairs led down into the pit to my right. At the other end, there was a large gate. And something was trying to force it open. Something huge, like a bear grown out of proportion. A horned bear. I could hear its muscles crack all the way from here as it pushed against the Ebony bars. Then, the door behind me screeched loudly as Carius forced it open far enough for him to pass. The beast up ahead stopped and turned to gaze upon us.
I looked at its muscles, the claws, its horns like battering rams, its four eyes and its sharp teeth. I preferred not to take my chances with a fight. This had to be the beast of ice, another of Hircine’s potential prey.
,,Hail! We’ve been chosen by Hircine as well. Please, let us work together in this hunt! Let’s fight Hircine together!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. The beast roared and swiped through the air with its claws. Then, it charged.
,,I take that as a no.” Carius said and readied himself.
,,The moment he is about to slam into the wall, we’ll jump!” He shouted over the beast’s roaring. I nodded and brought Forgeheart up to my face in a twohanded grip.
,,So in the end, I do end up fighting one of Hircine’s challengers.”
Mmmm exciting updates! The conclusion of Bloodmoon has always been a thrilling one if I do say so. It was absolutely nuts at the time though, those wolves packed a punch!
I can't wait to see how Falx and Ro-El handle the Frost Giant though. He's quite a challenge. Keep it up jack!
Hmm, I'd call this cheating but it does sound rather fun.
We jumped. I was lighter than Carius and better trained for this, so I managed to jump farther. The Imperial landed on the beast’s back and grabbed its fur while attempting to drive his broadsword into its massive back. The Beast was capable of high speeds but not very agile due to its mass. I took advantage of this and hewed with all my might at its legs while it was still stunned after running into the wall.
It let out a terrifying roar as I struck. But its fur had acted like a pillow, and softened my blow till all I managed was a light scratch. And what was worse, Forgeheart’s ice didn’t harm it. I was shocked, in the short time I’d been in possession of it, nothing had ever resisted its power. Yet the beast of ice did. Of course it did, the title wasn’t there for nothing. I threw Forgeheart away and readied myself for its next move. It’s next move was hurling the legionnaire off its back. Carius managed to land on his feet somehow, but his face showed me that it wasn’t something he wanted to do again. Making a large drop in heavy armour is not healthy for the ankles and the legs. We both jumped aside as our foe tried another charge.
,,Damn, that thing is tough. And it sure loves to charge. I think we need a bigger sword.” He said as he tried to find a weak spot. The beast had turned around and roared another challenge at us, blinking with all four of its eyes.
,,Speaking about swords, where’s yours?” He added a moment later.
,,Forgeheart is of no use here. So it’s back to the basics. I just got an idea. Here I go!” I replied and dashed forward. My plan relied on two factors. My own speed and the beast’s response.
The giant smashed down with its arm, just like it should if it ever hoped to hit someone as short as me. I intentionally slipped on the ice and then flung myself up on top of its hand. It flung its arm back up in an attempt to throw me off which was exactly what I was hoping it would do. Its own movement launched me up to its face where I lashed out with my fingers, striking right at its eyes. The lens cracked and the beast reeled back in pain. I landed back on the floor and created some distance.
,,Nice shot, but you didn’t kill it. And there are no eyes left to crack.” Carius dryly commented. I knelt down and took my pouch from my belt.
,,I wasn’t going to kill it. I would never be able to penetrate into its brains. Umm, you might want to stand back a bit, this is going to be gross.” I told the Imperial. Carius frowned, glanced at the beast trashing about and then moved away reluctantly. I whispered a small prayer to whatever god might be listening before raising my voice.
,,Over here, you big dumb oaf!” I shouted and continued with whatever insults I could come up with, compensating for diversity with several repeats.
The beast waved its head back and forth. After a few seconds of doing this, it had tracked me down by the sound of my voice and it did its favourite trick. It charged. I could feel nervous sweat trickle down my face, getting into my eyes. Yet I did not dare to wipe it away and clear up my vision. The ground shook with each step the behemoth took, each step sounding like approaching thunder. I counted the steps, trying my best to fight down the impulse to flee. One…two….three…four. At the fifth step, I executed my plan. I reached into the pouch and focussed my mind on the object I wanted. The pouch’s mouth began to expand, growing to incredible proportions. I jumped away and shouted the command.
,,Charge!”
What followed was one of the bloodiest scenes I’d ever observed. The Drill Centurion rolled out and met the blinded beast head-on. It’s drill dug into the beast’s chest, throwing bone fragments, blood and shredded organs behind it. I slid back even further to avoid the gory fountain. The wails of agony hammer at my ears and I covered them with my hands and frantically closed my eyes. Then, it was all over.
The beast was dead, but the Drill Centurion continued to drill through it, its steel surface now smeared red with blood. With more than a bit of reluctance, I picked up the bloodied pouch and called the Centurion back.
,,Wow, now that’s what I call impressive. You’re full of surprises, Ro-El.” Carius said with a big grin. I didn’t share his humour.
,,Urk….never again. I think I’m going to puke.”
After relieving myself of last night’s dinner, I retrieved Forgeheart which had fortunately not been caught in the mess. The ebony gate was still closed but that was no problem for us. We were humans and as a result much smaller than the beast of ice. We could slip between the bars easily, though Carius had to hold his breath. We found ourselves in a pitchblack room.
,,Welcome, worthy prey.” A dreadful voice spoke to us from the darkness. Suddenly flames lit up along the wall, lighting up the room while at the same time a cloud of smoke obscured its center. From out of the smoke, two red eyes gleamed at us. Then a silhouette became visible as Hircine strode out of the smoke. The hunter, we’d found him. And he sure had a flair for the dramatic.
Well that was a very inventive way to deal with an Ice Giant. Messy, but effective!
It was VERY enjoyable to read since I had no idea that was how you were going to handle that creature.
Now I'm curious to how Hircine will react to the way that there are still 2 competitors alive....
It is nice to see a critter that forgeheart's enchantments can't affect. ![]()
This line makes me laugh: "Damn, that thing is tough. And it sure loves to charge. I think we need a bigger sword."
It made me think of Bruce Willis. ![]()
Ok, time for the greatest hunt of all to commence!
And two challengers, who said anything about two?
He spun his spear around in a circle and then stabbed it into the floor.
,,I was expecting the giant to come here. It appears that I was wrong. No matter, there is still time. I’ve prepared a meal for you, feel free to use it and regain your strength before the final hurdle.” He spoke and vanished before either of us could respond. Where he’d been standing, a plate with steaming wolfmeat remained.
,,Food? I’m not going to reject such a gift. All this fighting has made me hungry.” Carius said and promptly began to consume the warm meat. I sat down and rested, though I did not eat a single bite myself. I would probably end up throwing it all over the floor anyway. All I did was drink the water from a small vial I found in my pouch.
I was thinking. Now that I’d made it all the way here, I had to honour my promise to Aevar. I would set him free, somehow. But how? And at the same time, if I survived, how was I going to continue my search for Pelinal? I had no idea where to look.
It was then that Hircine chose to return.
,,Now that you’ve regained your strength, it is time for the hunt to end. The Bloodmoon shall soon sink beneath the horizon. A conclusion must be reached before then. Come on, fight! Decide which among you will be the challenger!” He shouted loudly. Carius and I looked at each other and then shrugged.
,,Sir Hircine, with all due respect, we must refuse. It is not in the nature of man to turn against his allies, even if a god would command it.” Carius said softly yet firm. I personally doubted the argument he brought forth. Man, and mer, had often betrayed his allies for a god. But if it worked, I wouldn't complain. Hircine seemed to be surprised from what he heard.
,,What do you intend to do? Only one shall have the honour of being my prey, that’s how I’ve planned it! Only one of you will fight one of my aspects!”
,,Face it, you’re going to have two people to hunt. Either you’ll take us both, or we simply won’t fight at all. And that would take the excitement out of the game, wouldn’t it?” Carius continued. I had to admit he hit the right spot. Hircine was bored, and itching for excitement. There was no excitement for him in simple slaughter. He would do anything for fun.
,,Sometimes, you have to bet on the long odds.” I remembered Khorne’s advice and made up my mind.
,,Let’s change the rules a bit.”
Both Hircine and Carius looked at me, obviously a bit confused.
,,Carius and I will fight all of your aspects. In exchange, I want several things to be done. One, you will free Aevar Stone-Singer and release him into death. Two, you will tell me where Pelinal is.” I stated my demands and waited for an answer.
,,You wish to fight my full power? You have courage, mortal. I like that! Very well then, it is decided! You will face Strength, Speed and Guile! Do whatever is needed to win! Prepare yourself!” With those words, Hircine vanished for the second time.
Carius and I drew our swords and turned our backs to each other. But nothing had entered the room.
,,Say, what’s this Pelinal?” The Imperial whispered.
,,A really big Centurion I’m searching for. It’s a long story.” I whispered back and tightened my grip on Forgeheart’s hilt. Three puffs of smoke erupted around us. From out of the smoke jumped three personifications of Hircine’s aspects. A bear, a wolf and…..a miniature Hircine? I had to stifle a laugh upon seeing the deer’s mask that adorned the head of all three aspects. On Hircine it worked, but on a bear or a wolf it looked downright ridiculous. Nevertheless, the hunt had begun.
The wolf raced forward. It opened its mouth and prepared to bite. I dodged and stabbed with my blade. As smooth as water, the aspect rolled to the side and avoided the sword. Then something pushed against my back and made me stumble. I spun around to see what had hit me. It was Carius who had his Broadsword wedged between the bear’s teeth and was now trying to keep from being pushed backwards.
,,Conclusion. Wolf, speed. Bear, strength. Then Hircine is guile. A spear doesn’t sound like a sign of wit to me.” I noted to myself and engaged the wolf again. Again, we both failed to hit each other. It seriously reminded me of my duel at Dren manor.
Something whistled through the air to my left. I brought up Forgeheart and managed to block Hircine’s spear. At the same time, the wolf attacked for the third time. This time I could not dodge completely. Its teeth gnawed at the Stalhrim covering my leg, which creaked under the pressure. Still locking the spear, I kicked at the wolf with my free foot. The aspect let go and moved away to prepare for its next move. I could only hope that Carius was holding his own against the bear.
,,You are skilled. Yet you are also reckless. It is three against two, warrior.” Hircine hissed from behind his mask.
,,I am with you.” I pulled away my blade and pressed my hands together.
,,Then let’s change the numbers a bit.” I called back at the aspect of guile and crushed the spectral ring around my finger. Instantly, a cold wind blew through the room, colder than the air already present. The wind flowed together, forming into a humanoid shape.
,,Hircine! For the second time, I challenge you!” Aevar shouted and stormed forward, swinging a mace that looked suspiciously similar to Tharsten’s.
,,Now it is three against three, fair odds.” I said and turned my full attention on the wolf.
Hehehe! I'm giddy with joy! This is really a sweet twist you created! At first I though that Hircine had poisoned the food, thereby getting rid of the extra challenger depending on who would eat it first. But this is a much better way to handle the problem.
Continue! You can't leave me hanging like this!
Woah, that came out of left field.
Nice twist. ![]()
,,Aevar! How did you get here?!” The aspect of guile shouted behind my back.
,,You’re not the only god, remember that! There are powers at work that rival yours!” The rest of the conversation was lost to me as I had bigger problems to worry about. Problems like the aspect of speed trying to have me for diner. It jumped straight at me, like it had done every single time before. I managed to skid to the left and use the hilt of my sword to push that fanged mouth away. The wolf bounded away to make the gap it needed for its next attack. It was a predictable pattern that would have resulted in defeat right at the second try, if it wasn’t so fast. I had lost count when it jumped again.
Again, I dodged and again I tried to counter and again the damn wolf was out of reach before I’d gotten close. I realized my attacks came slow with a sword but using my bare hands on an extremely mobile target would only lead to broken fingers. I had to get it within reach, somehow. Then I knew it. If I couldn’t go to the mountain, the mountain would simply have to come to me. And this mountain was more than willing.
The next time the wolf charged, I remained put. I had to play this in a new way. Instead of relying on my ability to dodge, I would have to invent the ability to take blows. It was trial by fire at its finest. The aspect knocked me down but in doing so it made its fatal mistake. It exposed its soft belly to Forgeheart. A blink of an eye later, I shoved the now dead corpse off of me and got back to my feet. One aspect down, two to go.
I looked around to see what I should do next. To my left, Aevar was hammering away at guile like an avalanche. On the other side, Carius was doing his best to keep from being eaten by the aspect of strength. I made my choice and dashed over to help Carius. Not so surprisingly, things were very lopsided into our favour here. Carius had the strength needed to keep up with the bear, for a while at least. Me, I had the speed and agility to exploit every gap in its defence without difficulties. Also, I had Carius as a distraction.
I waited till the captain fell back from exhaustion. While the bear was still preparing to strike I did three things. One, I stabbed Forgeheart between its ribs and into its heart. Two, I crushed its windpipe with a fast kick. Three, I used a light spell I absorbed some time ago to blind and confuse it. The bear lacked the size and subsequent protection of its organs that the beast of ice enjoyed. It died as well, fairly easy. A bit too easy for the aspect of a god but who was I to complain?
Carius and I turned only to see that Aevar had already beaten his foe into the ground.
,,How? How could I be defeated?!” The aspect of guile cried.
,,You’ve given me centuries to prepare. I’ve beaten you fair and square. Now give me what I want!” The spirit roared back.
,,And so you shall receive it.” All three aspects vanished and the true Hircine returned. Before our eyes, the ghost of Aevar began to dissipate like whisps of smoke rising from a candle. He nodded to us before he was gone completely.
,,I’ll speak great tales about you when I arrive in Sovngarde.”
,,That was quite an interesting performance. There would have been a greater challenge for you in store yet you took so long in getting here, the moons were about to sink beneath the horizon. When that happens, this palace will crumble. I had to cut short the battle without turning it into a one-sided slaughter.” Hircine chuckled. Now this was one weird god if I’d ever seen one. He’d actually been holding back on us.
,,So, what about the deal we made?” I asked warily. He’d changed his part by not giving us his full-power aspects so he reasonably wasn’t bound to give me my answers. On the other hand, he had granted Aevar’s wish. Whether he gave me the answer or not, I had new problems to worry about. A crumbling palace did not sound pretty.
,,Of course. The weapon you seek is in possession of Azura. Go to her shrine and she’ll lead you to its exact location. Good hunting.” The Hunter said and looked behind him where a crack had appeared in the wall.
,,Ah, it has begun. You may go, hunters. The path beyond that door leads to a ledge. Use it to escape this place’s fall.” Another explosion of smoke, and he was gone. More cracks appeared in the wall and the floor. Was there a tremble beneath our feet?
,,Let’s go, Ro-El. There’s no time to waste.” Carius said and ran for the door. I followed.
(As you can see, I failed to make what I consider a pitched battle that goes back and forth. Once Ro-El smacked the speed aspect, there was no challenge left. I had to find a reason to explain the 'easy' victory. Solution, Hircine was holding back.)
Your logic makes sense to me. Still, it was an interesting fight while it happened. Now, Ro-El can continue and find Pelinal! Yay!
I wonder though, how willing will Azura be in relinquishing the Dwemer Construct? We'll see.
We ran, we ran as if the world behind us was coming to an end. It actually was. The ground beneath our feet trembled and cracked wherever our we planted our heels. I was frustrated. Was this how it was supposed to end? Behind us was nothing but cracking ice, before us was a drop into the bottomless depths.
,,Pray to the Divines, kid! We jump!” Carius shouted over the thunderous noise.
,,What?” I shouted back in disbelief.
,,Jump!” The Imperial seized me by the arm and hurled himself off the cliff, taking me with him.
Falling through the air, it felt familiar. Like the dream I had when I was infected with Lycantrophy, before Pelinal came up with a brutal but incredibly effective cure. I looked down at my feet and burst out laughing. It was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous but there it was. The Cloudcleaver, descending at nearly the same velocity we were travelling. My landing on its deck was as soft as if I’d merely stepped off a table rather than jumped from a ledge now hundreds of metres above us. The surface was coming up beneath us though. I jumped for the steering wheel, rudely shoved Zarador out of the way and applied all of the airship’s thrust straight up. The turbines howled, jets of thick steam came out of the steam engine. The chamber whined as its walls were put to their limits from the pressure within.
Slowly we lost speed. Large blocks of ice crashed down all around us, forcing me to divert thrust continuously to avoid the largest fragments. We had not yet come to a stop completely before we ran out of air to fall down. Still, the Cloudcleaver had slowed down far enough to make a reasonably comfortable landing in the cold sea. Water splashed up over the railing and onto the deck, soaking us to the bone. I turned down the Turbines to safer amounts of thrust and got us away from the still crumbling plateau of ice. Ice plunged into the water around the airship turned actual ship.
Only when we were far enough away from any falling fragments did I release my hold on the wheel.
,,I don’t believe it. Carius, how did you know the Cloudcleaver was down there?” I asked the captain. The man displayed a crooked grin and shrugged.
,,I didn’t but hey, I just felt lucky. I pray to the Divines every day. It was about time I cashed in their favour. Wew, what a ride!” He replied, half-drunk from excitement. I shook my head and turned to Zarador.
,,And how did you get here?” I asked him. The Altmer tried a similar crooked grin but interrupted his attempts to catch his hat that was blown off his head by a gust of wind.
,,I went to bed and when I woke up, I found that we’d drifted off course. According to the Administrators, we are at the northern coast of Solstheim.” He replied.
,,It just happened?” I muttered in disbelief. This was so wrong on too many levels to count.
,,Of course it did. It’s a miracle, that’s all. Something you youngsters no longer rely on. Nowadays everything must be explained through logic. Bah, a good old miracle would beat logic every day, if it wasn’t so random.” Zarador complained.
,,Alright, it’s a miracle. By the way, meet Falx Carius, captain of Frostmoth. Carius, meet Zarador, a friend of mine and a true Dwemer fanatic.” I chuckled and introduced the two to each other.
,,Dwemer fanatic? Those buckets of rust aren’t worth a single septim if you ask me.” Carius laughed.
,,You may keep those opinions unspoken. This is a Dwemer airship and our most esteemed captain just happens to be a high-ranking member of house Dwemer.” Zarador replied with a smug expression. Carius looked at me in wonder.
,,He’s playing with me, isn’t he? The Dwemer vanished ages ago.” He spoke.
,,Not exactly. Sure, most of the Dwemer population has gone but we are not dead by the normal definition. Most of us are now the heart and soul of a Centurion called Pelinal. It is roughly the size of Numidium, though with much greater potential. And another bonus is that it is still hidden somewhere in working condition.” I answered and gave a Spider the order to clean the deck from all the bits of ice scattered about. Two more spiders had already climbed on top of the steam chamber and were looking for cracks in the steel surface. They chattered loudly in a language only a Dwemer would understand, a rapid series of clicks. I nodded to myself and turned off the turbines completely so that the Centurions could repair the damage they’d suffered when I pushed them beyond their safe limits. Now only the waterflow pushed the Cloudcleaver forward. Fortunately the water flowed in the right direction.
,,And you’re looking for Pelinal for reasons I’m not going to ask. It’s probably another thing for the Emperor. You two are probably a pair of Blades so I’m just going to shut up and forget about it. And to do that, I’ll go search for some booze on this metal bucket.” Carius grumbled and went below deck. I quickly had a Spider transmit the order that tagged Carius as a friendly. If I didn’t, he would find out that there were a few aggressive Spheres and Macewielders in the cargohold, not to mention a spare Wing. Oversized balls and darts of steel would surely ruin his day.
,,Heh, he called us Blades. We’re so much better than that.”
What a fortunate turn of events for Ro-El and friends. Could it be the luck of the divines or daedra. I'd like to think so. ![]()
Wondeful update as well. Nice to see the humour popping back in. It's nice to see such things after near death experiences. Their work isn't done yet though, they must not forget that!
Chapter 5: Quest for the Centurion.
It had been a week since we left Hircine’s palace and Carius was now back at Frostmoth. Looking at what we’d been through, things were finally looking up. The Cloudcleaver’s turbines had taken more damage than expected and we were forced to use one as spare parts for the other. As a result our progress was slow and we were grounded as well. The good news was that the Cloudcleaver was as good on water as it was in the air. That, and we’d managed to enlist the help of a Khajiit. M’Aiq. He knew all about Azura’s shrine. Not to mention that the stories he told us were amusing.
,,Beyond those pillars. You should see the shrine to your right.” The airship sailed around the stone pillars rising up from the water and we all looked to the right. At the base of the rocky island was nothing but looking up higher we saw a stone platform jutting out, with what looked like a giant statue of a woman holding a crescent and a star in her outstretched hands. Azura’s shrine. I turned to M’Aiq and dropped the screwdriver he so desired in his paws.
,,Thank you, this will do.” I thanked him profusely. The Khajiit lifted his yellow hat as a greeting and then jumped overboard. A sound similar to shattering mirrors accompanied each step as he ran over the water’s surface. Back to his fishing rod I presumed.
We brought the Cloudcleaver as close to the coast as we could and disembarked. A type 2 was left at the wheel. He would keep the ship in position against the water’s current.
,,So here we are. The shrine of Azura. Rather pompous for something placed in the middle of nowhere.” Zarador noted. He cast a spell of Levitation on us and we ascended to the statue’s base where we found a door leading inside.
,,The last step. Now we’ll finally find out where Pelinal is. After that, there’s nothing left to do.” The door opened with the shrieking sound of metal scraping on metal. Whoever built it had neglected smoothing the edge of the door.
The interior of the shrine was dark, lit only by odd braziers hanging from the ceiling. The light they provided was bright, but smothered by the thick smoke those same braziers spat out at the ceiling. Beyond those braziers, the only decoration was a statue at the far end of a large hall. It was the spitting image of the statue found outside, only slightly smaller. We approached it and I jumped on its base to look for a hidden switch or anything else.
,,Ro-El, this is a shrine.” Zarador objected when I peeked between two enormous toes.
,,Yeah, so?” I asked back.
,,You don’t need to look for hidden mechanisms. The best way to get your answers right now is to ask. Allow me.” The Altmer explained. He spoke an odd incantation which sent shivers down my spine.
,,You have disturbed the tranquil rest of this place. The Dwemer have fallen, the Chimer’s beauty has been marred by their sins. Numidium was broken in battle. Dreams of conquest, dreams of immortality. All have been shattered by grim reality. Everything so far has gone as I’d decided they would go. Kagrenac’s possession of Lorkhan’s heart, Voryn’s mistake, Pelinal’s awakening. I planted the seeds of all these events in the hearts of the people. Now most actors have left the stage and the final act is about to begin. It is a lesson this world must learn, the lesson of its proper place.” An otherwordly voice spoke from thin air. It was a disconcerting experience. The voice echoed from all around us, without a distinct source. It was not the voice of a person, but the voice of a Daedric prince. Or princess, whatever. It’s a bit hard to determine the gender of a being that can change its gender at will.
,,Go, the Centurion awaits.”
There was a loud rumbling and the lights dimmed to non-existence.
,,Zarador.” I called out in the darkness.
,,Patience, my young friend.” The Altmer called back. Soon I saw light erupt from his staff, not enough to reach the room’s ends but enough to make our immediate surroundings visible. I became aware of another light, a faint red hue coming from beneath my feet. I bent down and touched the floor with a hand. A staircase, leading down deeper into the shrine.
,,So Pelinal is under our feet? Only one way to find out.” I said and carefully put my foot on the first step.
,,Careful Zarador, these steps are practically invisible.”
How long we descended I don’t know. Time was an elusive essence that slipped through my mind in the darkness we were in. I couldn’t even see my feet, only the light on Zarador’s staff and the red light gleaming from below. I did keep count of how many steps we took but in the end, I lost track of this as well, long after passing two thousand. As we progressed, the red light became more apparent and so did the temperature around us.
,,Something’s on your mind.” Zarador said somewhere during our descent. I didn’t reply.
,,And I believe I know what it is. It is what Azura said to you, isn’t it?” He continued. I still didn’t reply.
,,She has basically admitted that she is the source of everything. Without her, Kagrenac would never have found Lorkhan’s heart. Without her, the Tribunal wouldn’t exist. Without her, the Dunmer would still be Chimer. Without her, the Dwemer would still live.” I froze and the Altmer nearly bumped into me.
,,Yeah, that’s what’s bothering me.” I admitted.
,,She punished us for trying to achieve immortality. But what right does she have? Without her influence, we woul never have even tried! She played us, and the Chimer as pawns and punished us for it! What right does she have for this sick judgement?” I fell silent and continued down the stairs.
,,Who knows how a Daedra thinks? They are so different from us, it is impossible.” I heard Zarador whisper behind me. Finally, we reached the end, after what could have been a scarce two minutes or a long two hours.
We emerged in a peculiar room. It wasn’t much of a room, more of a corridor. There was a ledge where we were standing but beyond that, the floor was submerged by hot magma. About a stone’s throw away, the corridor veered to the left, out of our vision. I looked at the walls, which were perfectly smooth. I looked at the ceiling, which was as smooth as the walls. In short, there was no way for us to climb past this obstacle. We were stuck.
,,I’m at a loss here. Got any ideas?” I asked Zarador and sat down. It was warm here, and I was soon wiping the sweat off my face every few seconds. Zarador paced back and forth on the narrow ledge.
,,Hmm, the obstacle is like a test. In order to proceed, we must get across the magma. Can we levitate? We can’t see where it ends. We could end up falling into the magma before we’re even halfway.” He muttered to himself. I watched him in silence. It was best not to interrupt his train of thought.
,,What is magma? Magma is simple stone, heated to the point where it turns into a liquid state. The requirement for magma is heat, large quantities of heat. Rob it off its heat and it shall return to a solid state. At that point, we can walk.” He continued about for a few more minutes, weighing the pros and cons of a plan of which I only heard a few sketchy details.
Without warning, he turned to the magma and launched an orb of ice into it. The ice was instantly consumed the moment it touched the liquefied rock. A thin vapour was all that was left of it.
,,Observation, low scale frost spells are inadequate. Large scale frostspells will be successful however, an estimated continuation of the freezing for about half a minute must occur before the inherent heat of the magma has been nullified after which the solidifying will start. As more heat is lost, the solidification process shall accelerate.”
I stood up and reached behind my back for Forgeheart. I had to push Ephraim’s rapier out of the way first. Wearing two swords was awkward, but each of them was suited for a different style of combat. In this situation, I reasoned that Forgeheart might provide us with the answer.
,,Zarador, stop thinking for a moment and see if you can follow me.” I said. Zarador stopped pacing and looked at the sword I held.
,,Consider this. Pelinal is controlled by three keys which are shaped like swords. Each key is also enchanted to represent and hold power over a particular element. Fire, Ice and Lightning. Now Pelinal is likely at the end of this obstacle course. Would it not stand to reason that he who reaches Pelinal should be first tested to see if he has the keys?” I continued. The Altmer pulled at his beard for a while and then nodded.
,,What would be a better test than to include an obstacle that can only be passed with the key? You’re right, Ro-El. Forgeheart holds an incredible frost enchantment. Dipping it into the magma will bring the prolonged, high-intensity frost spell I required. Hurry up, lower it into the magma!”
I did so and we waited. At first there didn’t seem to happen anything but a thin vapour rising up. Forgeheart’s blade began to glow as it was heated by the magma, slowing approaching its melting point. My heart thumped within my chest. Was Forgeheart too weak for this? Would the ancient sword melt before it overcame the incredible heat? The blade became a dull orange, followed by a brighter yellow and then a blinding white. There it stopped and returned to yellow, to orange, and in the end to its normal colour. At the same time the magma darkened, turning into black and charred stone. While it was still a semi-liquid, I pushed Forgeheart forward into warmer regions and set a foot on the solidified platform I was creating. We slowly pressed on, step by step, cooling the magma before us.
,,I wonder though, Ro-El. We only hold one of the keys. Will we be able to make our way across the other two tests?” Zarador said when we reached the bend in the path.
,,I don’t know. We’ll just have to try.” I replied. My arms were feeling heavy from holding Forgeheart for so long but I wasn’t willing to rest till we’d made it to the other end.
Oh boy, lots of interesting things happening in this update. Ro-El being upset by Azura is one of the more intriguing aspects. It's an interesting viewpoint considering how Azura is ofter depicted as the "Good Daedra" even by those who aren't Dunmer. (Then again, Luper wasn't that happy with Azura either
)
I'm also curious to find out how Ro-El and Zarador will pass the other trials. Excellent work.
Well, in Luper's case, he was rather pissed. Azura was in a way responsible for the deaths of those he considered his real family. Luper doesn't give a crap about being an incarnation of Akatosh and given shape by Azura. All he cares about are fiftheen years in jail while hearing from an annoying guard how his foster-family screamed before their execution. Oh, and did I mention that he hates her 'just do what you're told' attitude?
In Ro-El's case, it is similar. Don't bloody punish us for something you made us do. Yeah, Daedra are incomprehensible at times. The best we can do is to make our own judgement. And in these two cases, the judgement isn't pretty. Anyway, back to the story.
By the time we did reach the end, my arms felt like lead weights. I was more than happy to sheathe the blade and give them some rest. It was only twenty steps further down though that we reached the next test. A spherical room, made of metal. An empty room, except for the giant sphere that hung in the center. Oh, and countless beams of light weaving an intricate web.
Zarador and I stood in the opening. It was obvious that this was the next test yet just what the test was escaped us.
,,The walls are made of metal. It’s not Dwemer steel either. And then that light. Ro-El, this is a clue.” Zarador muttered. I nodded and peered at the sphere in the center.
,,Ok, one sphere that looks realy suspicious. Hold on, I’ll throw in a pebble and see what happens.” I said, bent down, picked up a rock the size of my thumb and hurled it into the room. About halfway there, it passed a beam of light, blocking it for a splitsecond. Before we had any idea what was going on, a massive crack hammered at our ears and an equeally massive flash of light blinded our eyes.
We stood there, blinking and trying to get all the coloured spots out of our vision. After several minutes, we could see normally again. The pebble was gone, vanished without a trace.
,,What in the name of my white socks just happened?” I asked myself out loud.
,,Lightning. A really intense burst of lightning, spread equally across the room. If we’d ventured in there, Ro-El, we would have been vaporized. There wouldn’t be enough ash of us left to fill the bottom of an urn.” Zarador replied.
I sat down on the floor and began to think. The room was a giant lightning projector. Blocking the light served as the trigger. The lightning had to come from that sphere. As a Dwemer, I had some experience with artificial lightning, but only in small quantities. Dwemer steel was capable of conducting lightning, but less than normal steel. That’s what keeps our cities from turning into huge lightning-attractors during a thunderstorm. And even a single lightningstrike isn’t that much of a problem with the high melting-temperature.
Melting-temperature. I looked closer at the walls and concluded that it definitely looked like normal steel, not the superior Dwemer steel. Which was probably the answer. To solve the test, one of the three swords had to be used, preferably not Forgeheart. I’d beaten fire with ice. So should lightning be defeated by fire? There was only one way to find out.
,,Wow, Ro-El! What are you going to do with that thing?” Zarador shouted and pressed himself flat against the wall. I pressed myself against the opposing wall and tapped one of the Drill-Centurion’s weels.
,,I think I’ve got it figured out. To continue, that sphere must be melted down. To do that, throwing Trueflame is probably the intended solution. Now we don’t have the sword of infinite heat. On the other hand, the lightning itself causes the sphere, and the walls and anything else it hits, to heat up. This is where the Drill Centurion comes in. With a triple-layered armoured shell made of really thick Dwemer steel, it’s internal systems are safe from the lightning while the exterior is much more capable of handling heat than the simple steel on the sphere and the walls. We’re simply going to roll it in and wait while that trap over there kills itself.” I explained and gave it the command to proceed into the room, just past the first light-beam.
,,Oh, and we’d better move back. Just in case.” I added.
We clamped our hands over our ears and squeezed our eyes shut while we sat on the stairs. Even with the hands covering our ears, the cracking of the lightning was horrible to hear. And the flashes still burned through our eyelids. In the end though, it couldn’t keep going like that forever. The lightning would cease. Once it did, we returned. The walls had melted down entirely, as had the sphere. Only a large pool of smoldering metal in the center of the room spoke of its existence. Closer to us, the Drill Centurion stood as if nothing had happened. Well, almost nothing. The segmented shell had fused into one single piece and the weels had become part of the floor. Dwemer steel was good, but it still had its limits.
,,Aye. I’ll get you fixed up once this is done. I’m sure Arkngthand can do it.” I said to the machine and cut its weels free with Forgeheart. It rolled back into my funny pouch, though slower and with plenty of creaking. When I’d tied the pouch back to my belt and looked up, I saw that Zarador had already passed the room. Just to demonstrate how safe it was, the Altmer waved one hand through a beam of light. Apart from a tiny flicker on the ceiling, nothing happened. I hopped past the puddles of molten metal and joined him.
,,Two down, one to go.”
(Yeah, and now I don't know how to make the last test. Damn.)
I'm sure you'll think of something. This test solution was quite ingenious. Very enjoyable.
I have no idea how I suddenly came up with this at school, but it sure sounds good. And this chapter is done, woo! Only one (or two) left! Yippee!
Instead of going down, we went up again. Frankly, all these stairs were getting on my nerves by now. Was it really necessary to hide Pelinal this well? A giant, mountain-sized Centurion that requires three unique keys that can only be held by three unique persons is a bit hard to steal no matter where it is parked.
,,Ice. The next test will include ice, or perhaps another form of it. Like water or vapour.” I mumbled while counting the steps.
,,Indeed, such would seem to be the case. And from the pattern that has been established, we require Hopesfire to succeed. In other words, we’ll require a lot of electricity.” Zarador answered back.
We were both right. The next room was surprisingly not lethal in any way. What we did find however, was even more incredible than the lightningroom of earlier. The place was dominated by a giant scale. One end held up a block of steel which blocked off part of the wall. The other end, which was sitting on the floor, was a giant bucket filled with water. It was quite obvious what we had to do this time. We had to get rid of the water so that the suspended end would become heavier than the lowered end and fall. Only how? We couldn’t possibly scoop it all up with our hands and throw it overboard. That would take forever. Likewise, no amount of heat we had access to could vaporise all that water.
,,Ok, I’m stumped. I know what to do, only not how.” I admitted. Zarador merely smiled and stroke his beard.
,,Ok, out with it, old man.” I spoke to him in an annoyed tone. This was not the time for jokes in my opinion.
,,Listen carefully, young man, and witness the splendour of my idea.” Zarador replied theatrically and coughed.
,,Ahem, enough with the exaggerating. It is quite simple. We need a large amount of lightning to split that water into two gasses, one of which is breathable. I have some experience from my alchemy studies a while back. On a smaller scale. Still, the same principle applies. We need a conducting element and electricity. Fortunately, we have both.” He continued, turned around and walked out of the room. I thought I was beginning to see his plan so I followed him. It sounded absolutely crazy but hey, all solutions so far had been pretty crazy. So why not? It was better htan anything I could come up with.
,,Remember the second test? After your solution, there are a large number of pools of metal, which we can combine and reshape into a long and reasonably flexible cable. This will be our conductive element. We dip one end in the bucket, plug the other into the hole the lightning comes from and trigger one of the light beams. After say half an hour, we pull it out and see the result. We’ll use Forgeheart as a coolant to keep the cable from melting. From what I’ve seen, the generated heat is not enough to defeat the sword of ice. That, Ro-El. That, is my vision. It should be quite amusing.”
So we did. We worked for hours, Zarador heating the metal so it became soft and I forging them into a long cable. After that, we hauled it over to the bucket and dipped one end into it. Since we were tired and pretty much done for, we ate and slept till morning. The next morning, we commence the plan. Forgeheart was put into place and Zarador used Telekinesis to plug in the cable from a safe distance. The lightshow was pretty, but less intense than when the lightningtrap had been fully operational. I assume that the walls worked to attract the lightning into the open air. Now it just jumped around the cable. After half an hour, Zarador used the same spell to get the cable out and I retrieved Forgeheart. Even after all the abuse we’d put it through, the sword looked brand-new. Kagrenac might have been a genocidal maniac, he sure knew his trade.
Back at the room with the scale, the giant bucket had emptied and risen up while the block of steel had dropped. A door was located on the wall the scale had been guarding. The block now served as a platform to reach it. I could see the handles of a ladder on one side.
,,So unless we’re going to go through a second series of tests, this is the last one. Ready, Zarador?” I asked and rubbed my hands with anticipation. I was looking forward to the end. After all this, I could use a vacation. A long vacation.
,,Ready as always. But my old limbs aren’t suited for climbing, so I’ll levitate. See you there.” The Altmer replied and floated up towards the door. I used the ladder to follow. We went through the door and found ourselves in a truly humongous chamber, standing on a small ledge suspended high above the ground. Looking right ahead, we stared into the dead eyes of, Pelinal.
Note: I'm not entirely sure if dumping lightning into the water would work as well as in the story, but I do remember something in alchemy-class (chemist? something like that) about splitting H2O into H and O2 by applying an electric current.
Yea, the seperation of H20 is done through electricity. Another really neat trial. I liked it.
Heh, it's time for the climax. Get ready to wet your socks. (Or not.)
Chapter 6: Shield of Resdayn.
I, Zarador, shall take up the quill at this point. The reason is that Ro-El does not remember the following events. Therefore, it is my task to fill up the vacuum that would otherwise occur. As known, we were standing on a ledge, looking right at Pelinal, the second Numidium and the true god of steel. This was the machine that challenged the supposedly invincible Numidium and came out victorious. It was truly a god of the Dwemer. No, it was more than a god. This great giant was House Dwemer itself.
I immediately noticed its resemblance with the type 2 Centurion, albeit on a massive scale. Yet looking closer, it was soon revealed that the similarity was a superficial one. There were infinite differences in the details. The largest difference I could make out by such a short observation were the unexpectedly bulky shoulders. They were like giant pauldrons of a very uncomfortable design. Yet the Dwemer never built things without a reason. Somewhere, these shoulders gave it an advantage in battle.
Battle, it still carried the wounds of its last fight. Many cuts and dents marred its surface, a large rent had torn apart the skin of its chest. The right side of its face had crumpled, as if struck by a mace of titanic proportions. Just the knowledge that the cause of these wounds was Numidium, made my heart skip a beat. Pelinal was just as powerful as that first Centurion, if not even more. The destruction these behemoths could cause if angered was beyond my feeble imagination.
Ro-El was silent. I did not dare to interrupt his thoughts. Two men were inside there. Dumac and Ro-El, two aspects of the same soul. Two personalities, two memories, two lives. It was up to him to bring order to the chaos that whirled inside him. Any interference on my part would only endanger the process.
Something reached out to me. A call, a strong one. A call of Magicka. I surrounded us with a shield just in time, for a fireball soon exploded across the protective bubble.
,,I am impressed, old man. Your reflexes are better than you would make them appear to be.” A voice I did not recognize spoke. I looked down the ledge in the direction from where the spell had come. A man stood there, a man whose skin was like grey ash. With a sense of dread, I realized that the skin truly was made of ash.
,,You! I thought I turned you into a snowman back there! It was at least twenty degrees below zero!” Ro-El shouted at my side. I could feel the cold coming from the exposed Forgeheart. It bit through my skin and seeped into my bones.
,,Returned one, I told you before. I am immortal! Being encased in ice is nothing. This is your last chance! Surrender the key and I’ll let you live. You and your friend.” The man called back. I shook my head resolutely. This was no time for nonsense. It was obvious that he would never let us live.
,,Ro-El, move on.” I whispered to my companion.
,,Move on. Once Pelinal is awake, there is nothing he can do. I’ll buy you time.”
The shield dissipated. Ro-El dashed ahead, leaping off the ledge, flying across the vast depths. I had to admit I was quite impressed. It takes a great deal of courage to attempt such a jump without any method to slow the fall in case you miss the landing. Nevertheless, this was not the time to admire one’s acrobatics. The ashcreature had set himself into motion to intercept my friend. I fired a spell of my own at him which tore through his shoulder and separated the arm.
,,If you desire the key, then come for me! I hold it, I am the keyholder the prophecy has spoken off!” I shouted.
It was all a lie, of course. The keyholder was Ro-El, no one else. Yet it made the creature hesitate, it brought him into an unknown situation. Even as it contemplated which choice to make, I could see its severed arm turn to dust and reattach itself to the shoulder. I could not let it regenerate.
,,I challenge you! I am your doom!” I shouted again to keep its attention fixed on me. From the corner of my eyes, I could see that Ro-El had made his jump and was now climbing that massive rent on Pelinal’s chest.
He had made up his mind. I summoned my shield again to thwart the incoming barrage and retaliated with a barrage of my own. The dark chamber was lit up by the fury of our spells. My shield wavered and fell, forcing me to take cover. But not before I’d broken my foe into countless pieces. I knew I had not managed to kill it, but I hoped it would give Ro-El the time he needed. I lied against the cold rock, most of my magicka spent and out of ideas. All I could do now was hope.
,,You’re quite good, old man! But not good enough!” Moments after these words had echoed through the chamber, the ledge under my feet turned to dust. I fell, and had to use what precious little magicka I had remaining to slow my fall. I landed at Pelinal’s feet, just a step or two away from that monster. I had only little power remaining. Enough to escape, or to go down in a blaze of glory.
,,Do you hear me, old man? You are not good enough! I shall bury you, together with this machine! My storm shall do this! You will never see the daylight again!” The man of ash told me, then turned into a cloud of ash that rose up and vanished through the tiny cracks in the ceiling. A heartbeat later, a loud rumble entered my ears and those cracks became bigger, growing each passing moment. Small pebbles began to fall, soon followed by bigger fragments. I leaned on my staff, unable to move. All I had to do to escape was to cast the spell that would return me to the Cloudcleaver’s deck. Yet I couldn’t. I couldn’t abandon Ro-El to his fate. His fate would be my fate. I closed my eyes and waited for the inevitable.
Ooooo, climax climax climax. This is very interesting. I'm liking change of perspective as well. Keep it going good sir!
cliffhanger ... noooo! ![]()
Good job ![]()
And end of the chapter. I'm really debating with myself if I should or shouldn't pull out a last chapter or bring it out in Oasis 2.
The sound of rock hitting ancient steel was deafening. Why had Pelinal not moved yet? Was it too late? I did not know, and didn’t dare think about it. I just stood there, with an odd calmth that didn’t fit the situation. For each moment I lingered, my death would become more certain. So far, I had not been hit by the falling debris yet my luck would not last forever. But I didn’t care. After all, what did my life mean now?
,,Here lies the champion of Tamriel. His courage was like a shining beacon to our souls and a scorging light to Tamriel’s foes. May his soul rest in peace. May we follow the example he’s set. May we never falter when all hope seems lost. May we raise our arm in defiance till our last breath. For as long as the stars shine in the sky, may heroes defend the land from evil.” The words came to me without warning. I remembered where I’d read them.
It was in Cyrodiil, some time ago. For an Altmer like me, it was like yesterday. For a human, it was many years. They were enscribed into a small, unasuming tombstone, situated within a grand mausoleum. Flowers graced the grave and countless candles cast their light on the faces of the worshippers. It was the grave of the unnamed champion, the one who had vanquished Tharn. Or so they say.
I whispered the words and turned them over and over within my mouth.
,,Why am I standing here? It is foolish! Pelinal is dead, Ro-El cannot be saved! But I will continue the fight in his name! I must leave!” I raised my hand to cast the spell when my luck finally ran out. A heavy rock hit me right above my left ear, knocking me down. Warm blood flowed down my cracked skull.
,,Heh, I suppose this is it. Such an embarassing end.” I thought with grim humour. My hands dug through the dust, clawing for my staff. I was hit by a constant stream of pebbles, the sign of a large fragment being ripped out of the ceiling. There was a sudden rush of air. Was it the air displaced by the falling boulder? The world rang, louder than ever.
,,Go.” Who had spoken? What was that voice? So calm and so devoid of any emotion. Who was there? I had to see. I forced myself to lift my head. The ceiling had gone, replaced by a dull gold. Gold, why was the ceiling made of gold? And why was it so close?
,,Go.” The voice spoke again. Now I knew what I was looking at. A hand, a giant hand of dented steel that was wrapped around me like a protective dome. Pelinal had moved.
,,Ro-El, you little show-off! You did it!” I cackled. My hands found my staff and I took hold of it. Its powers flowed into me and I cast the spell of recall.
The taste of the salty air of Azura’s coast nipped at my tongue as my body was transported through a temporal rip in the fabric of Mundus. I let myself sink to the deck of the airship and waited as the last of my powers slowly left me. I wouldn’t die, not without any further injury. We Altmer are of a superior physique compared to the other races. No, I would survive, like always.
Cushioned footsteps moved across the deck.
,,Still alive, old man?” The mocking voice of the ash man said.
,,Can you smell it, that fresh air? How your lungs struggle to take those breaths. You are defeated. Your shell is wounded, your goal has been crushed by countless tonnes of rock. Yes, not even the Daedric prince could prevent the destruction of her beloved shrine as it went down with the rest of the island. You are defeated old man.” He continued. I laughed weakly.
,,No, you are the one who is defeated.” I whispered back. My words were lost on the wind.
The Sixth House member bent down to my face.
,,What did you say?” He hissed.
,,It takes more than your feeble tricks to destroy a god.”
He bolted upright.
,,What?! Surely, that wound must have damaged your mind! I shattered an island! I threw tonnes upon tonnes of rock upon it! And yet you still believe it has survived?!” He shouted enraged.
,,I am certain of it.” I no longer had the power to speak, so I kept those words within my mind. I was loosing consciousness, slowly but surely. The last thing I heard was the sound of countless tonnes upon tonnes of rock shifting, being cast aside. The last thing I saw was the Centurion rising from the pile, shrugging off the heavy stone like mere raindrops. Then, I gave in to the darkness.
Ok, back to me then, I suppose. As Zarador said when he began to write, I have no idea what happened while I was inside Pelinal. Actually I wasn’t just inside Pelinal, I was a part of Pelinal. Pelinal only functions when its soul is whole. I am like a detachable piece of the soul, a key to its soul just like how the three swords are keys to its aspects.
I woke up far from where I entered my temporary sleep. I was in a tent, a dome of wood and animal hides. There was a fire burning at the center, and a short man kept watch. I knew that short man. It was Fargoth.
,,Hey there, keep calm. You’re still confused.” The Bosmer said and pushed me back onto the bed. I silently thanked him for as soon as I got up, I felt dizzy and would have fallen headfirst into the fire if it wasn’t for his help.
,,I know what you’re wondering. How did you get here and what have I been up to since I left Ebonheart.”
The agent made himself comfortable on the floor and poked up the fire with a long bone.
,,The second question is easy to tell. After leaving, I went straight for Red Mountain and have been holding a war of stealth with the Sixth House. Each morning I would go out and stalk the edge of the Ghostfence for any creep unlucky enough to stray within range of my bow. During the night, I would rest at the Ghostgate. During the last two weeks, an army like no other had been assembling. Two days ago, the army scaled Red Mountain. The Nerevarine was there as well and defeated Dagoth Ur. It wasn’t hard to know when. The whole top of the mountain blew off. Of course I was one of the first to investigate Dagoth Ur’s citadel after the Sixth House’s defeat.”
My head reeled from the new information. The Sixth House defeated? That was great news.
,,There wasn’t much to see to be honest. I went back out and followed the Nerevarine for a bit. He was going west, I don’t know why. Anyway, now for why you are here. Just a few hours after the great hero left, this big machine came stomping and entered the mountain. I followed as usual and found it standing in the middle of a large pool of lava. It didn’t move and the back of its head was open so I took a look. I saw you sitting there, sleeping. Anyway, I brought you here to this Ashlander tent and have been waiting ever since.”
I thought about everything he’d said.
,,So it’s all over? Good, I could use a vacation.” I muttered to no one in particular.
,,But it is not over. For an agent, there is always work to do. Just hope that your next job won’t require so much brute force and a bit more subtlety.”
Yup, I'm going to bring it in here. It sounds better from Ro-El's perspective.
Chapter 7: New faces with something old.
A few days later, we were all back at Ebonheart. Leroth was jumping all around me while Zarador stood next to the mirror and watched on. He laughed at the Bosmer’s antics and shifted the bandage around his head back into place.
,,Leroth! What is all this for? And finally, why did you guys make my ears grow pointy?!” I stammered. My ears were now indeed pointed, like an elf. I doubted it was a temporary change.
Looking in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. Using Zarador’s questionable ‘beard’ spell, I had produced a wealthy beard, which I instantly trimmed down to a more manageable volume. Zarador was a nice guy, but he was a bit crazy at times. Spending decades just to learn how to magically grow a beard could not be considered normal. It did look intimidating though. Gone was the quivering kid from the eggmine. I looked like a man twice my age. It didn’t change my length, though.
And then the clothes. They were fit for a king, to say the least. Black satin with golden embroidery. Heavy golden bracelets which Zarador had enchanted with some minor shield spells just because he could. A necklace of Ebony, and an Ebony walking-stick with a silver grip at the end. Only a handfull of people knew that the silver grip was actually the hilt of my rapier.
,,Hush, young man. Let me look at you. Yes, you look just fine. Now get going, we’ve arranged a grand ball in your honour.” The Bosmer replied after a long wait.
,,Ball?” I blurted out.
,,Work on your manners, my friend. We originally planned to have the Nerevarine as guest of honour yet he isn’t here. So we settled for the next best thing. Now go out there and behave like the king you are. Forgeheart is behind the throne should you somehow need it.” Zarador quipped.
I was utterly confused right now. There was something going on here, a game that had not been explained to me. In times like these, I would just have to improvise. And why had Forgeheart been hidden behind the Duke’s throne? Was such a measure truly necessary? With that sword, I could freeze over the entire castle. It was too scary to use. And speaking about the Duke, why hadn’t I seen him yet? After all I’d done, at least a debriefing would be expected. Yet none of it. And finally, why did Zarador call me a king?
The two elves shoved me out of the door and closed it behind me. I could hear a lock clicking into place. Ok, so I wasn’t supposed to go back and change into my usual attire. Ok, the message was clear. I moved down the corridor towards the stairs that would take me to the main throne-room. Maybe I could find out what was going on.
The stairs turned out to be blocked by a woman. Looking upon her Dunmeri features, I realized that she looked oddly familiar. As if the duke suddenly switched genders and lost a few years. I bowed down.
,,Milady. I hope you are doing well.” I said politely, staring at my own shoes and wondering how long these extravagant frills would last in the cold snow of Solstheim.
,,I am doing well, thank you. And speak normal, noble doesn’t suit you. Please, call me Ilmeni.” The woman giggled.
Ilmeni Dren turned around and went down the stairs, beckoning me to follow.
,,Listen, the houses have been kept in an uneasy balance by Dagoth Ur. With him gone and the Nerevarine out of the picture as well, there is nothing to keep them from falling on each other like hungry wolves. The Duke has come up with a plan. That is where you come in, lord Dwemer.” She said softly, pausing whenever we passed a near invisible peekhole. I was beginning to see the plan now and understood why I was dressed like this, why I had to grow a beard and why we were having a ball.
,,I will present myself as the lord of a reborn House Dwemer. With several thousand Centurions at my command, a number that grows each day, I can serve as the counterweight and fill up the void Dagoth Ur left behind.” I interupted the Duke’s daughter.
,,That is correct.”
Ilmeni dropped the subject and we chattered about inconsequential things all the way to the throne room. Inconsequential in that they were only meant to keep the spies distracted. I suppose we could sweep the place and clean out any foreign spies but that would only be messy. So we tolerated them, out of necesity.
The throne room was filled with a large assortment of nobles, who all took at least one glance at the short newcomer, some longer than others. Ilmeni picked up the pace and elegantly strode over to her father, who stood up out of his throne and embraced her. The Duchess who I’d never seen before did the same thing. It was both a sign of tenderness and a cold political act. Or perhaps not cold, because it could also be translated as follows.
,,This is my daughter, who I love. Hurt her, and I shall hunt you forever and make you beg for death.”
I followed at a slower pace, both out of political correctness and because I was a bit nervous with that big crowd. Five steps away from the throne, I made a slight bow to the Duke, his wife and Ilmeni. Slight, because I’d begun to play the game. It was a sign to those looking on that I respected the Duke as a host and an equal, but not necessarily my superior. If I was to revive House Dwemer, I had to act it.
,,Duke Dren, I thank you for your invitation.” I spoke solemnly. There was no invitation, but that was one of those things that had to be covered up.
The Duke made the exact same bow I’d made earlier, another sign.
,,I welcome you, lord Dumac of House Dwemer, to my humble abode.” Inwardly, I relished a mental grin at the collective gasp that drew through the room. Yes, lord Dumac had returned. I felt the slight tug of Magicka being used. Someone had recalled out of the room, a great breach of protocol. So the game was now in full swing.
The Duke turned to his other guests.
,,And to you, I extend my welcome as well. Allow me to introduce, my friend and ally, lord Dumac of House Dwemer.” He spoke loudly.
,,Friend and ally. Heh, it never harms to look out for yourself, milord.”
The nobles were in a hushed yet frantic discussion. I could pick up a few words.
,,Dumac?”
,,Is he crazy?”
,,But the Dwemer are gone, right?”
,,Maybe not, just look at him. Pale skin, beard, elven ears. He looks like a Dwemer. And aren’t they called Dwarves by some?”
There was another tug of Magicka. Someone had returned. No, two had returned. Dren moved closer to me without anyone noticing.
,,I’ve been hearing rumours about those two for a long time. I leave this up to you.” He whispered. I wondered who he meant. The doors swung open and I laid my eyes on….a very familiar face.
Hmmm I wonder who these newcomers are? Methinks one of em might be Luper but the other... no clue at the moment.
Very interesting change of events with revitalizing the House Dwemer. I'm not sure how the other Houses would actually react to this. For some I almost think they'd be hostile, since the Dwemer were considered enemies. We'll see possibly I guess.
And the absolute final part!
I looked on in silence as the two made their way towards the throne. One I knew only from reports. Divayth Fyr, one of the oldest and arguably the most powerful mage in House Telvanni. Fortunately for us, also one of the most isolationist. Till now, it seemed. The other, was a man I’d known long before. Or rather, a man I’d known when I still carried the name of Dumac.
The two stopped before the Duke, but I knew that their eyes were on me.
,,Duke, allow me to introduce a friend of mine who has spent the last few years in my Corprusarium. Yagrum Bagarn. I must leave now. Farewell.” Divayth spoke with no modesty whatsoever and poofed away. Yagrum exchanged some smalltalk and then had himself escorted to a room, claiming he was still weak from his miraculously cured Corprus.
,,A real Dwemer. Talk about timing. He might cause trouble. Want me to….deal with him?” Fargoth whispered behind my back. He then extended a plate with several glasses into my view. I couldn’t quite imagine Fargoth as a servant, but he probably pulled it off quite well. I took a glass of wine and pretended to thank him for it.
,,No, everything’s under control. Let him do whatever he wants.” I whispered back in reality.
I kept to myself at first. I mingled in enough to play my role, but not so much that I’d risk making a slip. I also danced a few times with Ilmeni, who taught me a few new tricks on the spot. I hadn’t danced since before I died. Though the Floating Butterfly style did bear some resemblance, so it wasn’t that hard to get back into it. I was a bit distracted though, both with Yagrum Bagarn in the back of my head and the prospect of an assassin on my doorstep every morning.
A few hours later, the ball was beginning to calm down, for which I was grateful. I was tired and bored, two things that don’t go well with the act I was playing. I played with the full glass of wine I’d taken from Fargoth hours ago and asked myself if I should drink it or remain sober. From the corner of my eyes, I saw two Bosmer approach, one dressed like a noble and the other in a dress with markings that looked distinctly magelike to me.
,,Good evening, sir. I must say that I am honoured to meet the famous king of the Dwemer. I am Leroth and this here is Galbedir, my wife-to-be.” He spoke courteously. I took a double-take on the woman he was with. It was indeed Galbedir, the Bosmer I’d brought him in touch with. I wondered if spying and being married went together but kept that question to myself.
,,The honour is mine. I wish you a very joyous and long life.” I replied with a polite nod. So now I was acting formal to old friends. That was a bit annoying. But I couldn’t let Galbedir know I was the kid from the Balmora mage guild.
,,You have grown a lot, Ro-El. The beard looks cute.” Galbedir whispered and winked. So she did know. Hell, I bet she’d been drafted into the order just because she was Leroth’s ‘totally hot Bosmer chick’. In that case, no need to play around.
,,It’s a new one to me. Since it’s created through magicka, I don’t know if I need a knife or a spell to shave.” I laughed, but still making sure I kept my voice down.
,,Anyway, this Yagrum Bagarn fellow has been asking for a conversation with Dumac. He’ll meet you on the northern balcony.” Leroth whispered, casting a few quick glances at a Telvanni. He was with a member of the mage guild, so some wariness around Galbedir’s great rivals was not out of place.
I said my farewell to the happy couple and casually slinked to curtains hanging behind the throne. When no one was looking, I grabbed Forgeheart and vanished in the servant’s corridor just behind the throne, giving the signal to the guards who were hidden there. They stepped aside and allowed me to pass. Now safely hidden from prying eyes, I attached the scabbard to my back. Holding Dumac’s sword would make it easier to convince Yagrum of my identity.
Yagrum said nothing at first when I joined him. He simply looked me over with a blank expression, lingering on the hilt of Forgeheart for a while. Time had not been kind to him. While once he was a cranky old man, now he looked like a pile of half-rotten fat slapped on top of a giant spider Centurion.
,,So you’re Dumac. I don’t know if I should believe that. If you are, you’ve changed. If you’re not, you act like a good impostor.” He finally said.
,,Hello, Bagarn.” I replied with the same neutral tone.
Yagrum Bagarn turned away and gazed over the land.
,,It has been so long since I saw the sky. The land has changed. Does anyone remember me?” He spoke to himself, using the Dwemer language.
,,I do.” I replied. His eyes shot to me, the confusion at hearing someone actually speak Dwemer clearly evident.
,,Then what do you remember, lord?” He asked, slipping back into Tamriellic.
,,Not much, a few vague pictures and feelings.” I answered, slipping back to Tamriellic as well.
For a moment, we were both silent again and watched the moons in the nightsky.
,,You know, I made a promise.” I said softly while I leaned on the railing. I saw a cloaked man move through the streets below, heading for the harbour.
,,What kind of promise, lord?” Yagrum asked without looking at me.
,,Remember Forgeheart, Yagrum?” I asked in return.
,,Forgeheart….yes, I do. I remember how Kagrenac slaved on it for days without rest. It was his masterpiece, one of the six great tools of Lorkhan. That’s what he called it and its siblings. Now though, this sounds like nonsense. The heart is no more. I felt its demise. We all did.”
I shook my head.
,,No, not all of us did. I didn’t, and ended up trying to fight Dagoth Ur a day after he’d been killed. After risking my life again and again, it was a bit of an anti-climax to be honest.” I said.
,,Now what was this promise?” Yagrum asked again.
,,I promised that I would right the wrongs that had been committed against Dwemer like Nebrighk. I swore it on Forgeheart.” I told him. I was still following the cloaked man with my eyes, and was now also looking at the shadow that seemed to follow him. We were silent again. I knew I had convinced him that I really was Dumac the moment I spoke Dwemer.
I raised my voice.
,,You there! Behind you!” I shouted and pointed at the shadow. The cloaked man didn’t look at me as I’d expected, but immediately turned on the assassin that had been stalking him. I watched the battle that began to unfold.
,,That is a fine promise, but I fear it has little use. What good would it do those of us who are gone? No one has been called Kagrenac since Red Mountain. Since the day the Dwemer perished.” Yagrum said, apparently unconcerned with the battle raging below.
,,Yeah, no one will really feel better if I avenge the Dwemer.” I muttered.
,,And what is there to avenge? They could have chosen immortality, yet they chose for an eternal sleep. I must go now, lord. I am tired.” Yagrum Bagarn said and began to walk back to the door a few steps away.
,,I never break a promise, neither the one I made to Nebrighk, nor the one I made to you…..Kagrenac.” I spoke solemnly and pulled Forgeheart free from the block of frozen flesh and steel.
The End.
So now Ro-El seeks to avenge the Dwemer. Makes me think he's going to run into Luper sometime in Oasis 2.
Excellent conclusion to this story, jack. Now I wonder if you'll focus on the other stuff you're working on or start another one? Haha.
Even though I haven´t commented to that incredible extent as Mallie does, I have read your story and I must say what I probably said before ..
- You are a very talented writer and it has been a pleasure to read your work!
What she said, lol
. ![]()
Edit: hey, I might as well not even try to be as articulate as the vets here.
What a thrilling ride- with a glorious ending- a cliff-hanger at the very last..... I tip my doggie-eared hat to you, sir.
Woah, a surprise twist ending. It took me a few minutes to figure it out. Nice.
One question ...
I can give you a hint blockhead.
Read Oasis 2 and you'll find out.
There is now apparently a theory, accepted as Lore, about the disappearance of the Dwemer. I read it in cursory fashion and it made sense to me.
However, whether or no the content of this tale agrees with it, I know which I prefer. More fool Bethsoft for not hiring you on and making this yet another Morrowind expansion.
ps - wherever you were educated Jack Cloudy you make small mistakes that no Englishman would make. Should Bethsoft wake up to the value of this piece then I'ld be delighted to edit it for you - for a reasonable fee ![]()
Alternately if I had a library in Tamriel I would want this on my bookshelf, even if it is 'only' fiction.
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