The Spectre of Destruction, Fifty years after the Nerevarine and Vivec depart from Morrowind Options

[Captain Hammer]

Right, hi-ya everybody. Okay, wait, that 'Dr. Nick' voice isn't what I'm going for. Anyways, this is my first attempt at a fan fic, so thoughts and critical evaluations are appreciated. For now, the prologue.

Prologue, Fifty Years Prior:
15 Frostfall, 4E 1, Dusk.
The shores of the Empire of the Ka Po’ Tun

The pressing masses of the cat-folk were driven back by yet another concussive blast of fire and thunder. In the shallows, a ship’s sails were being drawn up as the tide continued to come in, the clever design of the hull requiring only a few feet of water for the ocean going ship to move under the wind. On the shore, armored Dunmer, as well as a few men, were retreating to the ship under the cover of archery fire from their comrades, as well as the cover provided by two warriors holding back the press of those trying to kill their friends. One warrior was armored fully in Daedric armor, using the spikes on the armor’s knee, elbow, and shoulder joints, as well as the massive shield, to fend off those that got too close for the reach of his curved sword. Twice he had used the heavy brow of the Daedric helm to smash the unarmored head on an attacker.

Next to him stood the other warrior, wearing lighter glass armor and using the nimbleness it afforded to dart through attacks, relying the other’s heavy shield when necessary and using his own slightly curved blade to stab around his companion’s armored form. The lighter one moved from one side of the heavier one to the other and back, using his free hand cast the spells that kept the two of them alive, and the others with them free to make it to the boat. One of the attackers got too close, and the one in heavy armor delivered a crushing punch with the gauntlet Wraithguard, the spikes over the hand plate penetrating through armor and flesh. The reincarnated Nerevar, Trueflame in his right hand, turned to another, meeting the leaping assailant with a vicious curving upstroke of his pyromantically enhanced blade.

Next to the Nerevarine, the sole surviving member of the Almsivi Triune flicked Hopesfire and sliced a lethal wound into another attacking tiger. Vivec managed to turn to Nerevar, a look of obvious annoyance on his face. “Did you really have to make Tosh Raka feel so insulted? Your diplomacy skills leave something to be lacking. Not exactly the same as the last time we were working like this.”

The Nerevarine grunted. “Last time we worked like this I did rely on diplomacy, only to have four people betray me, one of whom killed me. You were there. Granted, Voryn Dagoth also betrayed you, but it doesn't change what had happened to me.” The Nerevarine continued his work, slicing and slashing with the circular strokes of the blade, allowing both the edge and the flames to drop the attackers that came at him. It was butchery, but they were still being pressed back, and for every step forward he took, he took two more backwards. The men and mer were getting onto the boat, but the two needed to buy more time. “Also, if I had gone with diplomacy those recent tries, you’d either have Keening sticking out of your side, or you’d be cut open by Hopesfire instead of holding it. Can’t argue with history.”

“No, you can’t,” agreed Vivec. A lightning spell arced from behind the two, downing more of the pressing tiger-horde. Vivec turned to see a Telvanni battlemage and relatively young councilor nod at him, before noticing that the last of their groups were boarding the boat, and that the tide was now taking the ship out. “Looks like the ship is leaving. Only two things left for us, Nerevar. Are you prepared?”

In response, the Nerevarine turned to Vivec, and tossed Trueflame over to the former god. Vivec transferred Hopesfire to his dark left hand, grabbing Trueflame in the golden right, and moved in front of Nerevar to meet the attackers. The Nerevarine turned, grabbed the mage in his free hand, and said, “Time for you to board your boat, Councilor Aryon. No bickering, we’ll deal with these n’wahs, you get the party back to Morrowind.” With two spinning steps and corprus-enhanced strength, Indoril Nerevar Incarnate threw the youngest ever Telvanni Archmagister over to the boat, the mage slowing his descent in the last few feet and prepping a wind spell to carry the ship off. As this was done, Vivec was occupied with using the blades to keep both he and Nerevar alive. The advantage of the blades was that, used together as they were, the magical flames forced the eye to track the movement of te blade both forwards and back, slowing down the opponent enough to strike without a parry. Now only Nerevar and Vivec stood against the onslaught, and as Vivec continued his twirling dance of flame and death, the Nerevarine pulled a gold-tinged hammer from its spot on his hip, and began smashing at the attackers, as well as the occasional earthwards strike to send shockwaves through the ground and unbalance the foe.

With the ship off, and the Ka Po’ Tun’s armada too far away to sufficiently deal with a fully armed vessel, Nerevar and Vivec began clearing space for the last part of their operation. For another hour they stood and fought, breaking the attempt to circle them that the tiger-horde had started in the brief moment of Aryon’s exit. When they had enough space, Nerevar reached to the underside of his pauldron, and withdrew a ring. “Vivec,” he yelled to his companion, “now!” He tossed the ring, and the former god turned twisted the blades in a circling motion around and beneath the falling ring, leaving the small circle suspended in a cradling spell. As soon as it was done, Nerevar struck it with Sunder, causing the ring to start expanding and slowly begin rotating.

“You know,” said Vivec, his back to the ring and another dead sliding off his blade, “I’m glad you kept the Mazed Band.” Though hidden behind the heavy mask of the helm, Nerevar grinned. The piling bodies slowed the onslaught, but beads of sweat were forming on both Dunmeri champions. “Your stamina potion is starting to wear off,” said Vivec.

“It’s been half a day of a fighting retreat. I’m surprised these are still working.” Nerevar smashed his shield into one attacker, and used a powerful backhand smash with Sunder to send another tiger-folk flying into his comrades. A shadow passed across the setting sun, forcing Nerevar to momentarily glance at the sky. “Alright, endgame time. Tosh Raka’s coming at us. We’ve got two minutes before he starts strafing us. Ready?”

“Of course,” said Vivec. “Though I’m still not sure about the necessity of this. Still, I suppose it’s better than nothing. It’s been an honor.” He looked up. “Huh, you weren’t lying about the odd scale coloring.”

After another minute, Vivec gave the cue, and the two each hooked a left arm around the rotating ring. Nerevar smashed the growing central spell nexus, shouting “Shal’Narak Sethalyas Addinural!” A brilliant white light enveloped the rotating ring, as well as both Nerevar and Vivec, and then erupted outwards in a storm of fire, lightning, and concussive force that enveloped the swarming attackers. In the sky, there was the brief outline of a dragon caught in the blast, as the darkening sky was briefly illuminated from the earth. Thus did Vivec, Almsivi Warrior-Poet, and Nerevar Incarnate, Savior of Morrowind, vanish from Mundus.

The Deck of the “Ocean’s Steed.”

Archmagister Aryon felt the sudden twist in the mana fields before seeing the light from Nerevar’s spell. They were far enough away that they were in little danger of dying from the spell, but he still reinforced the shielding spell to allow the blast wind to give the ship a boost of speed as it sailed out to the open ocean.

Behind him, the Nordic captain came up and tapped the Telvanni wizard’s shoulder to get his attention. When Aryon turned away from the spectacle on Akavir soil, the captain offered him a thick envelope. “Sir, I had orders from the Lords Vivec and Nerevar to give you this after we were away, should they not be aboard.”

Aryon took the letter, thanked the captain, and turned to the railing to read the message.

Aryon:

It seems so long ago, but it has not even been seven years since I came to you seeking your help for the title of Hortator, and offering you primacy amongst the Telvanni in exchange for your help. Now, however, I must bid you farewell.

Vivec and I discovered that Tosh Raka has been planning to build a fleet that would allow him to launch an invasion of Tamriel. I need not tell you how dangerous this is to our beloved Resdayn, both for the autonomy of our land that we have struggled for, and for the simple fact that any invasion to Tamriel from Akavir will necessitate a march through our eastern holdings. We cannot allow this to happen. However, Vivec and I will not be able to remain actively present. Our best chance at inflicting the most harm was on the shores of Akavir. I have included a sealed letter for King Helseth, in which I have also placed Azura’s Ring. To you, I leave Moon-and-Star, asking that you see that my signet ring reaches Sul Matuul at the Urshilaku camp. They already know what must be done from there. I ask you because you both understand the power of the magic, and your loyalty and friendship has been constant. I can entrust no other with this task.

I must ask that the last charge on the transportation spell that you and Demnevanni have maintained be used to send the letter for Helseth directly to Mournhold. You and I know Baladas will handle the affairs from there. Also, as you know, only the Bouyant Armigers that accompanied us, yourself, and Baladas know that Vivec traveled in secret with us to Akavir. We have agreed that this must remain secret. If asked, deny any knowledge or concern about Vivec's whereabouts. You were in Akavir, half a world away from Vvardenfell when Vivec's disappearance was noticed, and this should remain as your story. The Bouyant Armigers are loyal, and will remain silent, though you may need to wipe the memories of the ship's crew. I paid them handsomely for their services and their silence, so I leave this issue to your discretion.

I am sorry that we had to part this way. You have been a true friend and colleague during my time in Vvardenfell and Resdayn, and I am honored to have known you in my time. What Vivec and I do will delay Tosh Raka, but not stop him. Use the time to prepare. May the blessings of Azura, Boethiah, and Mephala be upon you.

-Therys Ollardys, Nerevarine Incarnate.

Aryon read through the letter again, and pocket the wrapped ring of Moon-and-Star. Holding the bare ring wouldn’t kill him, but the minute it slipped over his finger, he’d be dead. Nerevar had taken precautions. The letter addressed to him also went into a pocket in his robe, and out came a faintly glowing, pale pink soul gem. It had started a bright red, shining more than the fires of Red Mountain, but use had drained its energy. Now the last charge would be used. Holding the parcel for Helseth flat in his left hand, he pressed the gem to the heavy paper. In a flash of red light, the envelope disappeared, and Aryon found himself holding a soul gem as clear as a diamond. That went back into his robes. Bringing his right hand up; he ignited a small ball of fire, thumping his chest three times over. “Farewell, my friend.”

Mournhold, Palace of the King, Night.

A page announced that a messenger need to be seen, and Helseth waved the man in at once. “Well,” asked the Dunmer king, not even looking up from his desk covered in papers and lit in the night hours by numerous candles. “What happened?”

The visitor, a well-built Dunmer, bowed before speaking. “I received this from Demnevanni himself. Apparently Nerevar alone stayed behind on the Akavir shore as the others retreated by ship. Aryon made it out, apparently thrown onto the boat by Nerevar, which is how we got word so quickly. The Telvanni are at least pleased that the leader of their house didn’t die over there. Also, Aryon sent this to us, using the last charge in that transport spell he and Demnevanni had set up. Any further communications will have to be relayed to Aryon by Baladas through their link.” The visitor placed an envelope on Helseth’s desk.

“Thank you. You may leave.” After his guest had gone, Helseth opened the parcel, catching the ancient Ring of Azura as it fell out. He set it aside, reading the letter written in the Nerevarine’s own hand. He had no need of the ring itself, and following the request to hand it over to the Temple would serve him well enough, gaining both some small appreciation from the public, as well as showing indisputable proof that Indoril Nerevar was no longer to remain the guardian of Resdayn. Still, the contents bothered him. Nerevar had personally incurred the wrath of Tosh Raka, though based on the account had likely staved off any impending threat for an additional few decades. That gave Helseth the one thing he would need: time. Time that would be used to prepare for what would eventually come.

This post has been edited by Captain Hammer: Mar 8 2009, 03:52 AM