The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part 3 Options

[OverrideB1]

Yestere had been extremely profitable for me, as I had pretty much spent the day practising various spells, summoning, and combat techniques, not to mention a little alchemy. While there was no chance I was ever going to be partaking of the three greasy and foul-smelling concoctions I’d produced as a result of my experiments ~ the other training had been extremely beneficial albeit tiring. So, it was with more than a little impatience that I responded to the hammering on the front door that awoke me this morning. I was just about to address the young individual with the appropriate venom when he thrust a parchment into my hand, saying, “Muthsera Hleran sends her compliments.”

The note was brief and to the point:

CODE

“The first stage of your stronghold is complete. Please contact me at your convenience to discuss further development.”

Even though I knew that, at this stage, my stronghold wouldn’t be inhabitable, it was excellent news indeed. Dressing quickly, I spoke the words of the translocation spell and found myself in Sadrith Mora. Making my way into the oddly lit cavern, I listened to what Llunela had to say to me.

“I’m glad you came Muthsera Vahl,” she said. “The initial phase of growth is now complete. However, your tower still needs to grow more and it will need to be shaped. Traditionally, a skilled Tekton does this but, regrettably, the current expansion on the mainland means that they are all very busy there. We could leave the tower to grow wild ~ which rarely results in anything useable.

“But, when traditional means are unavailable, we have to make do with something else. It is said that the Dwemer had an artefact that could shape materials using sound. The book I read, by an Imperial named Hevou Thath, said that he’d seen designs for one such artefact in the Dwemer ruins of Mzanchend. I need you to travel there and locate these drawings, if they’re still there.”

Conveniently enough, the ruins I need are quite close to Uvirith’s Grave: so travelling there was my first priority. I followed pretty much the same route as before and soon came to the twisted knot of roots and branches that would form the basis of my tower. They had grown considerably since the last time, now being something like twice the height of a Mer. The environs, unfortunately, hadn’t improved any: the dust still lay thick on the ground and blew up in choking clouds at the slightest breeze. There was one change, however: and not a pleasant one. At the edge of the raised area of land upon which stood the hillock my tower was growing on was a campfire. Advancing cautiously, I made my way towards it.

“Greetings,” the armoured woman standing by the fire said, “what brings you to this gods forsaken plot of land?”

“This land is mine,” I replied somewhat sharply, “as is yonder tower. What brings you to my property?”

“Ahh well,” she said, raising the visor of her steel helm and looking at me. “Firstly, my apologies for any offence Telvanni. I have a tendency to speak jocularly when, maybe, I shouldn’t. As to what I am doing here, it’s complicated.”

“So, uncomplicated it,” I demanded. She grinned wryly.

“At your command. My being here serves a two-fold purpose. The first is that I am a researcher: and what I am researching is the life and times of the Mage Uvirith. Where you aware that this is the very spot his body was discovered in?” I shook my head, although given that the area was named Uvirith’s Grave, I wasn’t overly surprised. “Yes,” she continued, “and a very odd death he seems to have died too. He vanished from the Guild over in Balmora and, eventually, they became concerned enough to mount an expedition to locate him.

“After searching for many days, they found his corpse somewhere around here. It seems that he fell from a great height ~ with the inevitable consequences. Which is strange, because he was an accomplished mage and knew spells of levitation and slow-fall. Even odder was the length of frayed rope tied around his waist ~ what it was tied to at the other end, nobody knows.”

“All very interesting,” I interrupted, “but not really telling me why you are here.”

“Well,” she said, flushing slightly, “his staff was never found, although they scoured the area. It was, and probably still is, a very powerful piece of magical equipment. I had hoped to find some trace of it. The other thing is, recently I came into possession of a book of his that suggests he was looking for something very special ~ and may even have found it.”

“And what would that be?” I asked. She mumbled something quickly and quietly that I didn’t catch.

“A flying Dwemer fortress,” she snapped when I asked her to repeat what she’d said. I laughed until the tears ran down my cheeks while she stood there glowering at me.

“I’m sorry,” I finally managed to splutter. “Are you telling me that you actually believe those children’s’ stories about a big flying castle that swoops down and rewards good children come New Life Eve?”

“Not in the slightest…” she started to say, then stopped and looked at me. “Perhaps,” she amended, “I’ve found that there’s often a grain of truth in even the most fanciful tales. But I’ve spent many years chasing those grains of truth and rarely found anything. Which means that I’ve spent a lot of money and have little to show for it…”

“Which brings you to the second reason you’re here?” I suggested warily.

“I have heard,” she said carefully, “that Telvanni Mage-Lords hire mercenaries and was wondering…”

“Well, I’m no Mage-Lord,” I replied “and have no need of mercenaries at the moment.”

“I’m willing to wait,” she replied. I nodded thoughtfully. I hadn’t really given any thought to the protection of my tower and, given my ambitious plans for my self, I really should. If I rose much higher than my current rank of Spellwright, I could expect the unwelcome attentions of the lower ranking Telvanni who wanted my position. A few mercenaries wouldn’t go amiss.

“I’d be willing to consider you for the position,” I said. “But I need to know that you’re trustworthy. No offence, but you could be here to gain a position with me and use that position to a rival’s advantage. Here’s a couple of hundred Septims as a retainer. Keep your eyes peeled,” I said as I handed over the money, “and when I come back I shall expect a report from you.”

Leaving Kallin Basalius to her assigned task, I followed Llunela’s directions until I found myself at the ruins of Mzanchend. The ruins were only small, much of what had existed was lost behind a massive cave-in, but they did boast a small array of those spider-type animalcules. Having filled a collection pouch with a small number of rubies and diamonds, I finally found what I hoped I was looking for ~ a small sheet of the strange material the Dwemer used for writing and drawing on, covered in bizarre symbols and lines.

There was one other interesting feature in Mzanchend. Opposite the main entrance there was a flight of stairs leading down to a small corridor. At the end was a massive Dwemer door ~ the ornate engraved kind rather than the simple iron doors that you usually find in a ruin. What made this door particularly interesting was the lock that sealed it. It was not a Dwemeric lock; rather it bore the ornate style of local manufacture. Whoever had placed the lock had seriously intended to keep people from whatever was behind the door: no amount of examination or magic seemed to make the slightest difference; it simply would not be opened.

With a resigned shrug, I left the intriguing lock (I admit, its presence there had piqued my interest) and made my way back to Sadrith Mora. There Llunela Hleran had something of a shock for me. She’d been studying the drawing I’d brought back for a while before she spoke to me.

“This device can be made: I have enough knowledge to make it myself. However it can only be used once and it’s going to cost five thousand Septims to produce.”

“Five Thousand!” I exclaimed.

“I’m afraid so,” she replied. “Some of the materials are going to be very difficult to obtain, and there’s a lot of work that needs to be done. It will take me a day, or two, to create this object but once it is done, your tower should be ready fairly quickly.”

It was with a heavy heart that I handed over the money, five thousand Septims represented almost every Drake I had accumulated since arriving here, save the money safely tucked away in the Bank of Vvardenfell. It was with a much lighter purse that I returned to Balmora ~ on the morrow I would have to see what could be done about replenishing my funds.

[OverrideB1]

My injuries now, for the most part, healed, I awoke this morning with a feeling of loss: a loss of direction. For a while now I’d been struggling up the ladder of Great House Telvanni. Having reached the top, I was unsure what I should do next. Actually, what I should do after I’d done the next thing.

“I’m sure that you will make an exceptional Arch-Magister,” Aryon said, confirming that I was now Head of House. “There are certain duties you will need to perform, from time to time, but nothing too onerous. Of course, Sed Vahl, if there’s anything I can do for you, you have but to ask.” I could almost see him rubbing his hands together with glee, sure that his ‘master plan’ was nearing fruition with me installed as Arch-Magister. There would be time enough to show him otherwise. Indeed, given the techniques he had taught me, I had at least a couple of thousand years to teach him otherwise. And that was quite a sobering thought for a twenty-five year old to have.

“…matter, Arch-Magister.” I heard him say.

“I’m sorry Aryon, what did you say?”

“I said, Llunela Hleran wishes to speak to you about an important matter, Arch-Magister,” he repeated. Nodding, I thanked him for passing on the message and made myself scarce before he started going on about bringing us closer to the Empire.

“Firstly, let me extend my congratulations to you,” Llunela said, bowing as I approached her ever-present fire. “The House has stagnated under Gothren’s rule for long enough Sed Vahl.”

“Thank you,” I said, returning the bow. Here was another that had chaffed under Gothren’s authority. Given the usually… pro-active nature of the Telvanni, I wondered what it was about the old Mer that had had everybody so cowed and willing to accept him. With his sudden and messy demise, I was never likely to know.

“We need, I think, to discuss your stronghold,” Llunela said after pouring us both a tisane and we had taken a seat by the fire. “While the stronghold is certainly suitable for a Master, it is not a worthy dwelling for someone of your rank. I had a request from Raissu Asserbas this morning, asking for a contingent of House Guards now that you’ve been promoted. How is Raissu Asserbas working out for you, by the way?”

“She’s a gods-send,” I replied happily. “Exactly what I need to run the estate while I’m off… well, erm…”

“Adventuring,” Llunela supplied with a smile. “Oh don’t worry Arch-Magister, I don’t think any of us expect you to settle down just yet.

“So,” she continued, “I will send some House guards to you, along with Tadaves Saren: a highly skilled Tekton from the Mainland. It’s Saren that’ll be in charge of expanding your Tel to something more appropriate. But I think you need something a little special. You see there are a number of Telvanni who are going to look at you and think, ‘I could beat that slip of a girl’. And that would open up a whole internecine battle within the House as various factions fought to promote or control whoever would be Arch-Magister.

“Baladas has been doing some wonderful work with animalcules lately and I think he could be persuaded to provide you with a force of them to protect your stronghold,” she said. “They’d be loyal, nobody would be able to bribe them, and it would make a definite statement to anyone who thought that they could just march in and take over your position.”

I couldn’t argue with the logic behind that and the thought of a small force of incorruptible animalcules filled me with a secret glee. There was only one small catch. “There is a book that details the secretes of Dwemeric animalcules that Master Baladas will require. The book is in a Dwemer ruin close to your stronghold: the ruin is called Galom Daeus.”

After getting Llunela Hleran to give me directions to this ruin, I used the ring to return to Uvirith's Grave. When I told Kallin Basalius where I was going, she gave me a worried look.

“I don’t want to talk out of turn,” she said carefully, “but Galom Daeus doesn’t have a very good name with the Ashlanders in that camp down south. They all clammed up like Kollops when I mentioned it to them.”

Assuring Kallin that I would take great care, I followed Llunela’s directions to the Dwemer ruins. After an hour or so of walking through the blasted wastelands around my stronghold, I finally caught sight of the ruins: the towers rising up against the skyline on the other side of a lake of bubbling, molten rock. There was a small rocky path leading around the lava-pit, following this I quickly came to the heavy iron doors of the ruins. There was a good deal of scuffing in the dust before the door, but not enough to disguise the presence of footprints leading in and out of Galom Daeus. When I entered, I would not be alone.

I had feared that Galom Daeus was the home to a group of bandits who’d moved in to take advantage of the increased traffic near my stronghold. The reality was much, much worse. The patrolling vampire was not expecting me and I, forewarned by the marks outside, was expecting someone. Just not a vampire. As I crouched in the shadows at the top of the stairs, I saw the leather-clad figure moving around: the instant I caught sight of those glowing eyes I knew what it was I faced. Carefully knocking an arrow, I took aim at the doorway at the bottom of the stairs and waited for the undead woman to pass by again.

The arrow flew straight and true, unfortunately my aim was not as good as I would have wished. With a meaty thud, the arrow lodged itself in the woman’s shoulder. With a bestial snarl, she turned to face me. Sometimes I wonder at whatever power it is that rules my life, to say it is capricious would be a major understatement. For, as the woman turned, her foot caught on the lip of the lava-pit that dominated the room and, with a despairing shriek, she staggered backwards ~ blooming into flame even before she struck the roiling surface of the molten rock.

Knowing that she’d been a lesser vampire and that such creatures tended to travel in packs, it was with extreme caution that I made my way around the room and to the corridor that led deeper into the ruins. A grate of some dark metal stretched away from me down the corridor, which took a sharp right turn some thirty paces away. Beneath the grating more of that molten rock steamed and hissed. I was sweating profusely by the time I reached the corner: moving across the grate without making a sound proved difficult and taxing. The intense heat from the lava below didn’t help much. Peering around the corner revealed a short flight of stairs and another length of corridor.

Placing my bow back atop my pack, I drew out the Dwemeric axe and gripped the handle tightly. With as much stealth as I could muster ~ roughly that of a drunken Nord after a night on the mead ~ I made my way foot by careful foot down the stairs and long the passageway to the next corner. Pressing myself flat against the wall, I peered around the edge. And came nose to nose with a Cyrodiilic vampire that had caught a hint of my presence and had had the same idea!

“WAH!” we both yelled, recoiling violently.