The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Vehk's Path Options

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When I awoke this morning, I was certainly feeling the effects of my fight with Gothren and the Clan Berne. Every single bone in my body seemed to ache and the fatigue I felt screamed in every fibre of my being. Wearily, I opened a portal to Sadrith Mora and translocated to the market square. Llunela took possession of the book eagerly, summoning one of her seemingly inexhaustible supply of messengers to take it to Baladas Demnevanni immediately. “If you’ll pardon me for saying so Sed Vahl,” she said, after examining me for a moment, “but you don’t seem to be very well.”

“It’s been a hard few days,” I responded. “The fight with Gothren wasn’t easy and somebody neglected to mention that Galom Daeus was crawling with vampires.”

She bit her lip and bowed her head, “I beg your forgiveness Arch-Magister,” she said contritely and formally, “I was unaware that vampires had made Galom Daeus their lair.”

“It’s of no consequence Llunela,” I told her firmly, “what is done is done, and there’s no need to make a fuss about it.”

“Thank you Sudhendra,” she said, relief coming off her like steam. “Have you used a large number of healing spells and potions recently?” she suddenly asked. When I confirmed that this was so, she nodded as if in understanding. “I thought as much. Scrolls, potions and spells can only repair so much damage and they consume a lot of the body’s resources to do so. Perhaps a visit to the Imperial Cult shrine up at Wolverine Hall is in order. Or, if you wish to avoid the Imperials, there are a number of very effective healers in Temple.”

“The Temple?” I asked, remembering the large structures in Balmora and Gnisis. “Do you really think that they can help?”

“I’m sure of it Sed Vahl,” she replied. She promised to keep me apprised of the progress on my stronghold while I made preparations to visit the Temple in Balmora.

It was with fairly mixed feelings that I mounted the sweeping stairs that led to the enclosed Balmoran Temple. On the whole, I tended to avoid religious organisations: mostly because the beating that my foster-father administered were so often given in the name of Stendarr, or Mara, to hammer the sin out of me. Don’t get me wrong, the Imperial Cults have done some sterling work but I was leery of them nonetheless. And this… foreign cult that seemed to dominate so much of Vvardenfell? I knew very little of it other than it controlled the Ordinators and wielded a great deal of power.

“Greetings traveller,” the soft voice of a robed and hooded priest sounded strangely harsh in the austere surrounding of the Temple building. Everybody knew about alien religions: the bizarre graven images, the strange behaviour, the wild chanting to unspeakable gods. Aside from a few wall-hangings and a strange circular pit set into the floor, the building was bereft of the trappings I’d expected. Indeed, the Temple was more austere than any Cult building I’d been in: the only oddity a triangular obelisk with engraved images on the front that stood in one corner. “How may we help you?” the priest continued.

I explained my situation in broad terms, leaving out my position as head of Great House Telvanni since I wasn’t certain what frictions might, or might not, exist between House and Temple. I really shouldn’t have bothered ~ I’d forgotten how gossipy the natives of this small island were, and just how quickly news can travel. “Of course we can help Sed Vahl,” the priest responded.

He led me over to the plinth I’d noticed earlier, asking me for a small donation to maintain the Temple. I handed over twenty-five Septims and, following his instructions, placed my hands on the cool stone and repeated his words, “May the blessings of ALMSIVI wash over me. May the strength of their power cleanse and heal me. May the light of their wisdom guide me now and in all things. The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.”

I gasped as a great power flooded into me, almost blinded by the brilliant sparks that swirled around me. I felt the bone-weariness fall away and the ache I’d woken with dissipate and vanish. Dropping my contact with the stone, I looked at the priest and smiled, “That was amazing.”

“Indeed,” the priest said. Then, in that soft accusative tone that priests seem to specialise in when speaking to their wayward flock, he added, “It has been many years since a member of Great House Telvanni saw fit to grace the Temple with their presence.” Pushing back the cowl of his robe to reveal a strong and handsome face, he added, “Their absence has often been noted by Temple hierarchy and commented upon. The poor grace with which missionaries are greeted in Telvanni lands, and the dearth of established Temples are also well known to us.”

Feeling as though I’d just stepped onto a very dangerous ledge, I said, “While I have the authority, I don’t have the power to compel my fellow Mage-Lords to do things they don’t wish to.”

“This is well known to us Sed Vahl,” he said softly, “we may be insular, but we are aware of Telvanni ways ~ even here in Balmora. That you are a stranger in a strange land and don’t know of our ways is also known to us. That Telvanni mores keep you doubly ignorant grieves us bitterly.”

“So, what would you suggest?” I asked.

“That you join the Temple,” he said simply, “openly and freely.”

“Um, what would that entail?” I asked, visions of being ordered to relinquish my hard-won position in Great House Telvanni floating through my mind.

“Nothing as drastic as giving up your current position Arch-Magister,” the priest said, causing me to shoot him a dark look. “A guess at your thoughts only,” he quickly assured me, reading my look as plainly as a book. “The duties would not be onerous,” he continued, “save that you would be required to undertake some pilgrimages to demonstrate your devotion, and some small tasks to demonstrate your piety. Such things, done without any surety of reward, would make a powerful statement from one in your position.”

And that is how I came to join the local Temple, guided by the subtle hand of that Power which had taken such interest in my dealings of late. Although that fact was not revealed to me until much, much later.

Feldrelo Sadri gave me a book entitled “The Pilgrim’s Path”. “It is the duty of all novices to complete the Pilgrimage of the Seven Graces,” he informed me, the capitals dropping almost audibly into place. “By following in the steps of the Lord Vehk, they demonstrate their devotion to the Temple and to the grace of ALMSIVI. When you have completed the pilgrimage, I will assess you and give you further tasks. Or, if you wish, you can visit Temples elsewhere on Vvardenfell and undertake duties for them.”

Bowing low, Feldrelo Sadri went deeper into the recess of the Temple, leaving me with a book and a pilgrimage to undertake. The book contained details of each of the seven shrines a novitiate needed to visit, along with details of what was required at each of the locations. Some, such as the shrine at the Fields of Kummu, had long and detailed descriptions ~ others, such as something called the Puzzle Shrine, had only the vaguest of instructions for getting to them and no detail at all about what was expected. One, called the Shrine of Red Mountain, was wreathed around with dire warnings about what dangers could be expected there.

Feeling that there was no time like the present, and being only a short distance from the first shrine detailed in the book, I caught the silt-strider to Suran: spending the time reading and re-reading the Pilgrim’s Path. One thing I knew for certain, the cowled, woollen robe I’d been given would take some getting used to after so long wearing fine clothing. Fortunately, the robe was big enough to fit over my armour, although Feldrelo Sadri had disapproved of me keeping it on. Which just went to show how little he really knew of Telvanni ways: the armour and the envenomed blade beneath my pillow were the only things between me and an ‘unfortunate, accidental stab in the dark.’ I’d also insisted on keeping the blade and axe with me, preferring to rely on them rather than the stout wooden staff I’d been given along with the robe.

As I crossed the bridge over the Nabia on my way towards the Fields of Kummu, I realised that the stout staff made an excellent walking aid. The road wended its way through the pleasant Ascadian countryside, the air redolent with the smell of late blooming flowers and the crisp tang of winter’s onset. It wasn’t too long before I’d arrived at the small triangular plinth that marked the shrine. Having had the foresight to purchase a small packet of Muck from the alchemist in Suran, I placed the glutinous substance in the bowl provided and read the stanza engraved on the shrine.

Grace of Humility: "Thank you for your humility, Lord Vivec. I shall neither strut nor preen in vanity, but shall know and give thanks for my place in the greater world."

According to the Pilgrim’s Path, the next nearest shrines (three of them) are to be found in Vivec City. Accordingly, I shall make those my next priority. I returned to Balmora and sought shelter in the Temple, figuring that if the Camonna Tong wished to wreak bloody vengeance on me, the fact I was on hallowed ground might give them pause.

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Fortunately, Aryon’s glove proved to be effective for short periods of time and I could force the two titanic creatures to fight each other while I got my breath back and whaled on them with the Ebony sword. It wasn’t easy ~ every time I used the glove I could feel the strain of controlling one of the creatures and, I knew, that the glove had only a finite number of charges. It proved to be just enough to get the job done, with a strange noise the two creatures crumbled to ash, the large piles of gritty material suddenly sparking and vanishing ~ leaving behind one of the two large swords.

“Tssss!” I hissed, yanking my hand back from the hilt and sucking on my fingers until the burning sensation went away. Today seemed to be my day for trying unutterably stupid things ~ like trying to pick up a metal sword that was recently carried by a fire elemental. While I waited for the sword to cool down somewhat, I explored the room. The equipment was basic but functional, if you had any clue what to do with the majority of it. Still, the repair tools and the anvil would come in handy; I’d worry about the forge at some other time. There was lots of storage space, and places to hang weapons on the wall, as well as some shelves for smaller items. It was while exploring this shelf that I found another silver and black key and a black leather glove. The glove sang an odd note, deep and sonorous, and it fairly screamed ‘powerful’ despite the fact that it was a plain black glove made of leather with, I now noticed, some silvery threads running across the palm.

I returned to the sword and found, to my consternation, that it was every bit as hot as it had been before. Carefully I probed it for magic but found it completely mute. Too dangerous for me to pick up, I decided to leave it where it was. Exiting the chamber, I returned to the octagonal room and examined the remaining two doors. As I’d hoped, the symbol on the left-hand door matched the symbol on the key. Matching them together caused the door to open and I stepped into the chamber inside.

I was prepared for the sudden increase in light and the way the door hissed shut this time. Standing with my back to the glass, I carefully surveyed the room. Along one side ran a series of shelves, large stone jars sat on each wooden ledge. There was a plaque attached to the front of each of the jars but, at this distance, I couldn’t determine if there was anything written on them. Dominating the back of the room was a large workbench, on the top of which was a complete set of gleaming alchemical apparatus. To the side of the bench was a small bookcase and I could see a small collection of books standing on its shelves. The right-hand wall was lined with boxes, barrels, and crates. Two additional features completed the room’s decoration. The first was an ornate, glass-fronted cabinet right next to the door and, by peering through the green-tinted glass, I could see several phials stacked on the shelves. No cheap potions in earthenware flasks here ~ these were the extremely expensive kind of potion, the sort sold in tiny gold and glass vials. The room’s last feature was a sunken area, again octagonal in shape. I couldn’t make out what was at the bottom of the pit but the sweet smell of growing things gave me a fairly good idea.

I knew that this chamber would have its guardians and standing here with my back pressed to the door wasn’t going to reveal them any time soon. I stepped off the step into the room and suddenly found myself standing shin-deep in icy cold water. Even as the chill sank in, the water rippled and surged, forming a sort of inverted whirlpool. From the aquatic vortexes stepped two more elementals, only this time made of water. I didn’t have the advantage of Aryon’s glove this time: but I wasn’t about to let that slow me down. With a savage yell, I swung the Ebony sword around at the height of the elemental’s head.

With a loud splash I landed in the water, scrambling away as the elemental extended a staff of liquid bound in sparkling light and slammed the end down where my head had been a second before. The second elemental was getting uncomfortably close and, getting to my feet, I lashed my sword towards its chest. The creature never even flinched, not even attempting to stop or block the blow. And I quickly understood why ~ the ebon blade passed harmlessly through the creature ~ having no more effect than a pebble thrown into a pond. Dodging the staff-strike it aimed at my head, I back-pedalled frantically as I launched a fireball at the thing. That had about as much effect as the Ebony sword had had.

Scrambling to avoid them, I launched several more spells but nothing would seem to catch. Finally, I had to use the escape exit provided: presenting the key to the door and diving through as it hissed open. The two elementals stood on the threshold for a moment, and then collapsed in a splashing wave back into the lake that now filled the room. A lake, I despairingly noticed, that didn’t vanish as the doors slid shut.

I was in a quandary, from what Tadas had said, previous Arch-Magisters had taken control of the Battle-Spire and used it as a base of operations. Gothren, and whoever had preceded him, had failed to establish their mastery of the ‘Spire. All I had to do was figure out how they’d failed and the others had succeeded and I was home and dry. Talking of dry, my robe was soaked…

The forge burned merrily, apparently not consuming the tarry black substance that was the source of the flames. It was a matter of minutes before I was dry again… that’s when it hit me: fire and water! Fire dries up water if it’s hot enough so, all I had to do was persuade the two water elementals to come in here and stand in front of the forge for a week or two and I’d be home free. Which was a stupendously stupid idea. What I needed was something like that white-hot sword the fire elemental had dropped. I slapped my forehead in frustration, wishing that I could wind back time and start this day over again.

The black leather glove proved to be magically attuned to the blade, protecting me from the intense heat it generated. Despite the massive size of the sword, it was light as a feather ~ and bloody hot. And it made very short work of the two elementals too. As they finally dissolved back to whatever watery segment of Oblivion they’d come from, the lake of water in the room mysteriously vanished. The only trace of it was the endlessly cycling water of the small fountain that adorned the lush garden at the bottom of the eight-sided pit.

To my dismay, the sword was cooling rapidly: the white hot metal already gone cherry-red. Of course, if I had things figured correctly, it would be of no use to me in the third and final chamber. As if to confirm that the blade had served its purpose, it cooled enough to touch in seconds before becoming as cold as any other blade. But what a weapon it was: still incredibly light with an impressive reach and a razor-sharp edge to the now coldly glinting metal. Placing the sword on the workbench, I picked up the staff the elementals had left when they gone. Like the sword before it, it bore no trace of magical song and required nothing special to handle it. Roughly the length of my arm, the water at the core of the glittering light was the blue of deep oceans ~ and contained the same sense of massive power. The key I needed to open the final chamber was where I expected it to be, on the shelves next to the storage jars.

The third and final chamber was the Battle-Spire’s Master Quarters. There were a large number of shelves and bookcases, some very comfortable looking chairs, a large bed, and two earth elementals. Fortunately, I had the measure of this place now and quickly disposed of my opponents with the water-staff I had obtained in the alchemy chamber. To my unending delight, their demise seemed to be the cue for a subtle shift in the ‘Spire: I could hear several loud clanging noises.

When I returned to the octagonal central chamber, the wall of sparks had vanished and I could now examine the truncated pillar. Etched into the surface was a map of Vvardenfell, the location of several major towns picked out with precious stones. There was also a black stone set into the fascia ~ off to one side and surrounded by several concentric rings of silver. The rune-carved stone currently sat over an emerald on the eastern side of the map.

I made my way out of the Battle-Spire by way of the ladders in the tower. As I levitated down to the large plaza the stood in front of the keep I realised that a wooden door had formed in the stone archway. Tadas had returned in his strange vessel and he greeted me heartily. “Congratulations Sed Vahl,” he called, walking along the dock to where I stood. “The Battle-Spire is yours. Here is a key that will return you to the ‘Spire from anywhere you happen to be. I am at your disposal, and you may have use of my Solar Ship if you need it.”

Tadas led me back into the ‘Spire and showed me how to control it. The odd location on the map proved to be part of the Outer Realms and it was here, in the swirling void, that I decided to park the Battle-Spire ~ I could think of nowhere safer. I was in for another surprise. Inside each of the chambers a new elemental stood, only these showed no desire to attack and, according to Tadas, were ‘servants’. I quickly found that I could summon and dismiss them at will: a discovery that caused me considerable peace of mind.