Cyrodiil Options

[Alexander]

Ok, so for the unavoidable introduction babble, as most of you know I was rather pleased with Morrowind. I thought it was far better then the dribble I wrote prior to that, and most people seemed to agree with me. After I finished Morrowind I already had an idea for a sequel, I actually wrote the very first chapter of said sequel while I was posting up parts of Morrowind. Unfortunately though, after that first chapter I kind of lost interest. I didn’t think the ideas I had back then were enough to weave an entire story together, and I was probably right.

But as these things have a habit of developing themselves, over the past months I kept thinking back to the sequel, and kept adding ideas to the pile I already had. Now it’s done. I once again enjoyed writing this, and I hope you’ll have similar fun reading it.

As I’ve explained in the past, I’m not very good at making up things like titles, Akatosh knows it took me about as long to come up with the various titles of the chapters as it did to write the entire thing, so I’ve named the story “Cyrodiil” (catchy wot? )

Before I end my babbling and get on with posting the story, I once again would like to thank Treydog for agreeing to help with my story as editor, and for fixing the many, many, many grammatical and spelling errors, and placing every comma, semicolon and whatchamacallit in the correct place. And thanks to everyone who ever read Morrowind, and commented. I really enjoy the comments.


Now, while you don’t have to have read Morrowind, I believe in order to get the most out of Cyrodiil, it would be recommended.


So, enough babbling and on to Cyrodiil.

[Alexander]

Looking around him, Ocato saw the faces of all his companions were tense. They understood the reality; they were the Empire’s best, and perhaps even last, hope. Mannimarco, the King of Worms, was a legendary figure, nearly a myth. He was the ultimate enemy of the mages, the Necromancer who had battled the legendary Vanus Galerion; founder of the Mages Guild. This was a man of legends, and now the ten of them were getting ready to face him.

Looking around, Ocato saw faces he had known for a long time; some of them he counted among his friends like Raminus Polus, and other had didn’t know too well. Now though the ten of them were combined in this grand quest to end of the life of a seemingly immortal Necromancer.

Ocato looked closely at each face and nodded at them. The nine others nodded back in understanding. They realized some of them, maybe all of them, might die in the coming struggle.

Using the key Ocato had taken off of the body of the fallen Necromancer who guarded Echo Cave, Ocato opened the door and lead the way for the others.

Making their way through the cave was a challenge by itself, for it was riddled with Necromancers, some of whom were obviously high up in the ranks. But against the power of ten experienced wizards like themselves, the Necromancers stood little chance.

One thing they all noticed was the large number of Cairn Bolete plants scattered through the cave. None of them were superstitious, but if legends of the plant were true, that they grew over the place where someone had died, then it was a bad omen.

Making their way through the small maze of corridors, they finally found themselves in front of a bridge connecting two small plateaus high above the cave floor. On the center plateau they found themselves face to face with the entity they had come to defeat; Mannimarco.

What they saw was a tall Altmer with eyes set deep in his face. He was clothed in the garb of a Necromancer with two large Necromancer wall hangings behind and to either side of him. Ocato studied him as he observed their approach. He appeared almost unconcerned seeing ten wizards approach his personal hideout. Finally he stirred slightly and spoke;

“I see Bolor was unsuccessful in delaying you. Very well; I shall reanimate him once we are done here.” The voice was matter-of-fact, almost bored. It held the air of a scholar annoyed by a minor inconvenience that was keeping him from his studies. He continued in the same tone:

“I must say I expected Arch-Mage Traven, rather than you bunch. I am disappointed to see that he could not face me himself. I have met so many of his predecessors over the years. I developed a particular fondness for Galerion, ill-preserved though he may be.“

“But here you are instead. Skilled enough to make it this far; perhaps you'll be as useful to me as Traven would.”

“We will never aid you, Mannimarco.” Ocato said in defiance.

“Oh my dear, I didn’t mean to imply you had a choice. I will make you another in a long tradition of Worm Thralls, and take my time in studying you. Your very souls will be forfeit to me.”

After that Mannimarco called on his powers and, with an almost casual gesture, sent a powerful spell their way. He clearly believed it would be a killing stroke; an expression of satisfaction appeared on his long, ascetic face. But after the smoke cleared, that expression was replaced with one of annoyance; all the mages were still standing untouched.

Immensely glad that the ploy of the late Arch-Mage had worked in protecting them, the ten wizards let out a collected sigh of relief. Mannimarco hardly seemed bothered by his setback though.

“You foolish mortals, do you think you can stop me? Feel my power.” Mannimarco raised his hands over his head and Ocato saw a ball of fire start to form between them. The fire increased exponentially and even across the bridge, the wizards could feel its heat. With a mighty cry, Mannimarco launched the fireball right into the midst of the wizards.

Ocato jumped out of the way, but still felt his hair and clothing singeing, and heard his companions cry in anguish.