"Indeed. Of course, there are certain spells and pieces of equipment which would be of great use to you. Not carried by the average mage, but something which I could provide."
"...And by your tone of voice, I'm guessing you want something other than money in return."
"Ah, quite. I was recently contacted by a collector of the obscure, who wished to acquire some Dwemer relics. I have a list, and if you were to come across any of them, and bring them to me...discretely, of course, no need to involve the college..."
"Really. What an amazing coincidence. So amazing that I expect you'll also say you'll look into finding me an alchemist capable of refining the reagents I need." I leaned closer to him. "Ten septims say you already have a name for me."
He huffed, and glanced around to see if anyone was in earshot. I lowered my voice.
"It doesn't matter either way. I need what I need. And if a little smuggling is required to get it, I don't care. Just as long as you don't try to cheat me, there's no problem."
He studied me for a moment, broke into a wide grin, and clapped a hand on my shoulder.
"I see we are going to get along famously."
"Good. Because there are a few things I'd like you to acquire for me...discreetly."
"Oh?"
- - - - -
It was a tough choice, but I disenchanted both my chlorophyte shotbow and my shroomite armor.
The shotbow wasn't accurate enough, and wouldn't work with the enchantments I needed to use. I'd also made the mistake of bringing the bullet-strengthening variant of the helmet, even though guns and ammunition were too weighty for my inventory. I knew I could learn spells as substitutes, and that having what I needed to survive was a priority, but it was still unpleasant to do. I had a lot of...well, I wouldn't call them nice memories, but they'd helped me accomplish a lot. Archmage Savos and the college's best enchanters performed the ritual, reducing my equipment to fragments and sludge while the magic was captured and studied. I'd receive copies of their research, of course.
Enthir came through for me, acquiring several spells and an enchanted bow for dealing with the Falmer. I practiced with it and picked up some soul stones to keep it functioning. While I knew it was better for me given the environment, the fur-lined steel armor I purchased felt like vendor trash compared to what I'd worn in Terraria. Of course, I had it enchanted with cold resistance as well.
I left at the crack of dawn on the fourth day, alone. Trudging across ice and snow, I withdrew the ankh shield from my inventory and put it on my arm, and then swore my lungs out. One of its many benefits had translated into this new world as cold resistance. Jerk.
On my feet, for the first time here, were my Frostspark Boots. Enhanced speed, check. Traction on ice, check. ...Huh. I'm not sinking into the snow. Nice. Rocket function? Reduced to enhanced jumping. Ow. But not enhanced landing. While I was out and away from prying eyes, I'd have to check out how my other favorite accessories now functioned. Granted, I didn't really have an opportunity at the start, but I really should have made time to find out just how 'normal mode' affected my gear. That's the kind of oversight that could get me killed.
But right now, I was alone, surrounded by snow and howling wind, and it was a long trek to a cold ruin full of things that wanted to kill me.
Perfect.
I ran.
I felt the boot's enchantments kick in.
Faster.
"Fortify speed!"
The spell took effect.
Faster.
I approached a crevasse in the ice, a split that was too far to jump, and would take hours to go around.
So I jumped anyways.
"Levitation!"
I shot out of the crevasse, and did the stupid thing by flying low to the ground. My passage kicked up a huge plume of snow before good sense kicked in and I rose higher, surveying my surroundings.
Fuck the Empire. Stupid levitation ban.
I had to wonder how that worked. Did Bethesda remove levitation from the games because of engine limitations, or did they remove it to follow an in-universe reason for it? OR was it the other way around? Is the company and the game universe connected somehow? But again I wonder, am I even in a 'real' world, or was this place constructed purely for my benefit?
I flew on, keeping a careful watch on my MP.
- - - - -
Arriving after only a few hours thanks to magicka potions, I waited until my MP was full before floating up to what was left of Alftand.
Only the tops of a few towers were still visible, poking out of the ice. The entire above-ground portion of the city had completely frozen over. Ice had defeated stone, and several pillars had toppled. What I could see was mostly intact - not that I could see much. I floated around, getting a feel for the place. A single tower off to one side poked out of the ground, while a cluster of towers were locked under the face of a sheer cliff of solid ice. I decided to start on solid ground, approaching the half-buried tower and raising my hands.
"Flames."
Ice was just ice in the end, and I melted a path down to the door. The unlocked door, luckily enough, and I took a few minutes to clear some space and make sure it wouldn't get frozen shut and lock me inside.
My hallowed pickaxe chewed through ice with almost no effort, and I soon had neat little steps carved out. A quick trip to a distant copse of trees got me split logs to put down and branches to cover the slush beneath my feet. Not as precise as Minecraft or Terraria, but I liked things tidy.
Once I was convinced the doors wouldn't freeze me in later, I stepped inside the Dwemer's legacy.
The stonework fitted so precisely, I couldn't fit a piece of paper between the seams. The metal gleamed like it had just been polished. Only what was once a thick carpet had decayed over time. I stepped out of the antechamber. An alcove held ruined cloth. It was also a little warmer inside, and I could hear the distant hum of machinery.
"Observe."
*ping!*
...Nothing that I didn't already know. I followed the spiral staircase downwards. The first room I found looked like some kind of office. Ruined paper, desks, and the Dwemer version of an inkwell lent the room a surprising amount of mundaneity.
Across from it was what I guessed was a workshop. Mechanical spiders sat disassembled among tools both mundane and esoteric, crystal-tipped wands and runed plates that bore a strong resemblance to the equipment used by the enchanters in the college. A trove of magical wealth, but what I needed was in an adjoining room.
Shelves held Ignots of Dwemer metals. Each was a perfect - utterly perfect - cube about a centimeter or two on a side. Nowhere close enough to forge the gate, but a good start. There was also a small forge, and each tiny piece of coal was equally cubical and the unburnt ones glittered like quartz. I knew enough about enchanting to know the runes set in the base exuded heat. It was a magicka-powered forge, though the purpose of the heat-manipulating runes on the walls, floor and ceiling around the basin escaped me.
I passed a familiar metal iris set into the wall, but no spider or sphere crawled out to attack me. I paused and probed it with my senses. The tools in the workshop lit up in my mind like tiny stars. I knew this thing spawned annoying enemies in the game, and was likely a way for Dwemer robots to quickly move around the city, but there was no magic in it that I could sense. Unless the Dwemer had invented purely mechanical computing systems capable of distinguishing friend from foe, whatever controlled it was either dead or dormant.
I walked on, keeping my senses open in case their were magitek devices elsewhere in the tower's construction. I passed a breach in the wall where stones had fallen and dirt had trickled in, and stopped to fix the damage. This was a nice little contained area so far, I just might move in. As far as I could tell, this was a small outer annex of the larger Alftand complex. I'd passed a wide hallway that I reckoned to head to the main area, but it was caved in, fingers of broken pipe embedded in a stone wall across from a burst pipe. I pulled a book out of my inventory and flipped through the pages. The Dwemer disappeared in the First era, year 700 or so. It was now 4E 189. About...thirty-seven hundred years later. The shards were still sharp. I could feel faint wisps of steam coming from out of the debris.
Holy crap.
Talk about being built to last.
-
The rest of the complex held a little more treasure. I followed Enthir's instruction on how to crack Dwemer locks, complex but old and well-studied. A pile of Dwemer coins, useless except for the value of their metals was on Enthir's list, and they went into my inventory. I passed an armory, and marveled at the detail of the weapons and armor. I would be sad to melt the equipment down, and hoped to find more ingots. I also found another workshop, this one dealing with Dwemer magitek. A dynamo core sat in a raised platform, glowing and still spinning after all this time. I let it be for now, considering its size.
At the lowest level, I found a second exit in a large room, large enough to construct the gate in. Air was coming through the door, ajar, but rocks and ice prevented me from leaving that way.
If not for the isolation, or maybe because of it, this was perfect location to set up. I just needed to put in some security. I knew there were ways to summon atronachs, daedra and the undead permanently, but it would be nice if there was some kind of alarm spell...
Before I left the annex, I turned down a side passage I'd passed over and opened a door to reveal...altars? No, beds. Stone beds. It was a bunk room. And sweet divines this place had actual indoor plumbing that still worked. I was definitely moving in.
Before I left, I checked one of the beds. The blankets, moldy and rotten from steam, crumbled at my touch. I'd have to give this place a good sweeping-
I froze. I let the cloth slip out my grasp. This wasn't mold. Or dust. It was ash. There were no blankets. Only empty bedclothes. Most were adult-sized. A few were much smaller.
I am not a religious man, and the gods of Elder Scrolls are just so much game trivia to me.
But I offered a prayer for that family when I returned to town, and gave their remains to the wind before I left.374QuantumshardFeb 14, 2017View discussionThreadmarks Housekeeping...with a vengeance View contentQuantumshardFeb 15, 2017#56The first thing I did was clear the annex's lower exit. The stone of the door-frame was damaged and keeping the doors from closing properly. I'd decide on what to do with it later.
Right now I was standing in front of the caved-in hallway, considering how to do this. I had three options.
First, I'd tried boiling the ice away near the visible tower-tops of Alftand. Pings announced my skill levels going up, but no matter how far I went there were no signs of a door. Even with the ludicrous amount of MP I had and a boosted MP regen speed compared to the average mage, boiling away a few thousand square feet of ice to reveal the entire above-ground construction was a near Sisyphean task.
The second choice was to break through the walls. Easy enough, as I'd tested my pickaxe on some rubble and found it cut through stone with magical ease. As faster as that would be, it would likely announce my presence to any Falmer and still-active Dwemer security systems.
Option three was to clear the caved-in tunnel between the annex and the main complex. But this wasn't Minecraft, blocks didn't float here, and safely digging tunnels wasn't in my list of skills. Worse-case scenario, I might even destabilize the entire annex and lose everything I'd found so far.
I could always leave and come back later. It was only a few hours' flight back to the College, and I could probably scrape together enough septims to find a few books or a miner able to teach me the skills I needed to do this safely.
No. I'd fought gods and monsters and left behind enough corpses to build a mountain. I would not be timid about this, but I would not be careless, either. I dropped everything but the essentials from my inventory inside the annex, and picked a tower poking out of the ice. My pickaxe sliced through stone, and I set the metal tiles aside for smelting later. I peeled the entire top off and tossed the stones away. Curiously, some of the stones had grooves with wires set inside. An experimental prodding got some sparks out of them. Huh.
Whatever its purpose, the machinery that filled the top of the tower was in my way, and it was carefully cut away. To deal with the largest chunks, I began testing various spells, carefully focusing on the feeling of each, gently tugging here and there. There. That was the thread I wanted to pull. I cast Flames, but this time I coaxed the energy to release itself in a more focused manner. A flamethrower became a blowtorch. I overcharged it, and the blowtorch became a sizzling blade. The cost in MP was obscene, but it was powerful enough to cut metal supports and struts, which I tossed aside for scrap until I found an open space and alighted on a walkway. Was this a periscope?
I rested and recharged before I continued cutting, removing grills, stairs, pipes, and anything that offered an easy handhold.
If I was going to make an entrance, then I'd make an entrance that only a flier like me could use.
-
Forcing my way into Alftand had kicked over an anthill.
It was absolute mayhem. I could see a Falmer encampment far below, emaciated grey bodies were swarming over Dwemer animunculi like a living tide. Spiders and spheres blasted and hacked relentlessly, and I had to say, the game didn't even come close to showing how freakish the Falmer were. They moved like insects and howled in overlapping tones, throwing themselves in suicidal charges against the machines.
I saw one sphere brought down after a Falmer tackled it bodily. The creature got their limbs caught and mangled by the sphere's gears and pistons, jamming the mechanisms and allowing their fellows to mob it.
A thunderous impact and flying bodies announced the arrival of a Dwemer centurion, wide at the shoulders and standing ten feet tall at least. It was no mess of gears and pulleys, oh no. Its internals were protected by a solid shell, with smooth articulated plates protecting the joints. It waded into the melee breathing steam that drew high-pitched screams from the Falmer, smashing, slashing, or simply stepping on anything in its way. Once surrounded, it simply planted its feet and spun at the waist, tossing away anything within reach.
Then a fireball slammed into it, and I saw a group of Falmer shamans behind a pack of chaurus and their handlers beginning to throw magic into the battle. Ideally, I wanted the two forces to exhaust each other. Looking out over the battle, I decided the shamans had to go.
"Muffle. Inventory. Observe, observe, observe."
I floated down, surprised once again. The Dwemer had actual assembly lines. This one was for animunculi, limbs and integrated weapons at different stages of completeness at each station. As for the Falmer's stats, they averaged around thirty for the physical stats, ten or less for wisdom and intelligence, and I didn't see a luck score above three.
I lifted Enthir's bow and nocked an enchanted arrow, being careful of the greasy glisten on the head. There was no creak of wood or hum of string as I pulled the arrow back, and the arrow itself made no sound as it was flew. This was the weapon of an assassin, designed by Enthir to be the bane of creatures like the Falmer.
A shaman shrieked as the arrow slammed into its back. Shrieking turned to gasping as the poison went to work. The chaurus chittered in alarm and waved their antennae, but I hoped that between my placement high among the arched ceiling, the distance between us and my protective spells that they wouldn't find me for at least a little while.
I drew another arrow from my inventory. Another shaman was hit, low in the side. Now their guards were shrieking more than usual, bugs breaking away and spreading out. The animunculi were being slowly overrun, even without magical support. I fired one last time. A crit, in the neck of the last shaman, who dropped like a rock. I put the bow away. I couldn't afford subtlety any longer.
"Inventory."
My stardust cell appeared, and fell to the ground with a wet plop. It quivered and jumped as a chaurus approached, sticking to its face and going to work. The nearest Falmer swung a blade of bone and bashed in the bug's skull in response to the unknown threat. The chaurus dropped, but the cell wasn't harmed. I floated behind a pillar for cover.
"Status."
*ping!*
Name: T͂̑̏̍ͩͩ҉̦a̭̩͓̱̍ͦͮ̚͜k̳̤͎̟̀e̸͍̻̤̫̭̒͒ͣ̆ͩ̂n̘̊ ̗̗̗̞̋ͥ̀ͅa̱s̫̯͈̞͋̅̊̽ͨ̋ ̤̺͙p͏͖̩͉̜̩͎ā͉̫̋̅̏̀y͕̜ͯ̍m̬̞̘ͧͦ͋͌̍̚̚e̙̥̳̾̊̍͊̃ͦn̠̻͔̳͚ͣͯ̔̐ͬͮt̷͉͌̀
Class: Gamer
Level: 51
HP 0 (765)
MP 633/633 (1050)
Str 23
Dex 54
Vit 52
Int 70
Wis 55
Luk 55
Unspent points: 15
Int>>>85
MP>>>1275
SOON.
"Resist normal weapons. Shield. Fortify intelligence. Summon flame atronach."
I poked my head out of cover, and took aim at the thickest concentrations of Falmer.
"Fireball."
Chaos plus mayhem equals pandemonium. The Falmer were on fire, the chaurus were on fire, the shamans were foaming at the mouth, and I was getting a lesson in just how the Falmer managed to function without eyes. It was somewhere between 'worse than in the games' and 'better than any blind creature had any right to.'
Ankh shield and Terra Blade in hand, I descended to pick off isolated Falmer. Blind faces turned towards me as I approached, and I started to wonder if they had some kind of echolocation. They knew where I was and roughly what I was doing, but they didn't or couldn't parry or dodge with any precision. Every motion was exaggerated, and my Redguard-trained sword skill told me they aimed to target or evade as wide an area as possible. It wasn't that they were stupid. It was exactly the opposite, and the realization horrified me a little.
They understood their limitations, and designed a fighting style specifically to overcome them. They were trained to fight on even terms with opponents that could see.
I rose into the air and balled up behind my shield, feeling arrows punch into it repeatedly.
"Fireball. Fireball! FIREBALL!"
- - -
In the end, the animunculi were overrun. I didn't see the centurion brought down, but I found it completely caked in gore. Weapons had been wedged into the joints, the only real vulnerable areas. Joints locked and covers pried open, the Falmer had shoved alchemical bombs inside, guessing by the smell.
There were enough Falmer survivors to be a threat, so I bombarded anything with a bow and sent waves of minions at the ground forces. They were smart enough to mob my summons. I think they were hoping to exhaust my MP. But they showed fatigue before I did, and I landed to chase down the few that slipped away.
I applied some healing magic to the gash in my side and assorted bruises where the armor had held up, and resolved to make a sonic-based spell specifically for dealing with Falmer. History and origins aside, what they were now...they could not be allowed to grow in numbers and strength.
I decapitated another body and kicked the head away. Just to be sure.
The Falmer had their own way in and out of Alftand somewhere, and they'd been performing raids on the surface. While looting the encampment and checking for stragglers, I'd found their 'larder.'
Genocide was honestly looking like a fantastic idea right now.
-
Alftand was beautiful, and far, far larger than the games had even attempted to portray. Vast plazas held storefronts, tiered stalactites had been carved into vast housing blocks. Workshops the size of anything I'd seen or worked at in the real world. Fungal farms, amphitheaters and gardens, places to live, play, and enjoy daily life. And of course, rooms of vast machines dedicated to arcane tasks. It was...what was the world.
An arcology. The Dwemer had invented a self-contained world that had everything their civilization needed in one neat little package.
I had to smash a steady stream of worker spiders, some of them rolling out to challenge me or turning away from whatever task was last assigned them. But in the end, it was hunger that forced me to leave. I'd run out of rations and I didn't know what was safe to eat here. This place must of housed thousands of people, and I could have explored it for months.
I really couldn't imagine why the other races hadn't moved in. I mean, besides the animunculi, anyone willing to put in the effort to clear out the city and understand the machinery would have enjoyed some twenty-first century first-world living standards. Seriously, the Dwemer had been gone for thousands of years! Why had no one taken advantage of it?
Still, I was able to pick up everything that Enthir wanted. It felt...a little wrong. This wasn't a game behind a screen. It was once a home. Now a tomb. A mass grave. And I was looting. Granted, I didn't feel terribly bad about taking random bits and bobs that were all over the place, but I winced and made quiet apologies every time I disturbed a pile of dust and empty clothing.
And there were many, many such piles.
A few were close together, on hills in gardens, on benches in homes. Did Kagnerak's stupidity destroy his race in an instant? Or did it happen slowly? Did they all vanish at once, or did they have just enough time to reach out to friends and loved ones in their final moments?
Even knowing what the Dwemer had done to the Falmer - the snow elves...Well, I sympathized. It's not like I could say for certainty which of the Dwemer had betrayed them, if it was all of them, or just a few idiots in power hiding the truth or forcing everyone else to go along with it.
Taking one last look at the empty halls of Alftand, red with the blood of the Falmer and their victims, it seemed like history could be summed up as how everyone else had to suffer for the stupidity of a few.383QuantumshardFeb 15, 2017View discussionThreadmarks Follower GET View contentQuantumshardFeb 17, 2017#65After moving everything worth melting into the annex, I lost myself in the sensation of flying. Sure, Skyrim was a mess of Falmer, draugr, bandits and open-air latrines, but there was a kind of beauty to the untamed terrain, and eventually I'd have enough cold resistance to appreciate it. I made it back to the College in a matter of hours, my higher intelligence and flying-related skills cutting down on travel time. Still, it was technically an illegal spell, so I set down far outside town and walked the remaining distance. I set my armor aside to be patched up later, met Enthir in a storeroom later that evening and received my payment, a fat sack of gems and a name, one I recognized.
Sinderion.
I had a trip to make, hopefully before he got himself killed in Blackreach.
-
Atronach salts weren't impossible to come by, but they were only of real interest to wizards and alchemists for very specific rituals. Sure, they had plenty of applications other than the esoteric, but the more common potions and such could be made almost as well with ingredients that were far easier to come by. Thankfully the College was the best place in Skyrim to acquire salts, and I spent a chunk of my newfound wealth on raiding the College's stocks. It was a start, and I left behind enough gems on an open request that a few summoners began work on having more ready for me when I got back. Beyond the salts, the only things I really worried about being able to collect now was nirnroot, which I expected Sinderion to handle, and a few good-sized ingots of moonstone, glass, and ebony. Again, such materials were not unheard of by any stretch, but the people who tended to want them tended to want all they could get their hands on.
As I skimmed over mountains and plains of snow, I felt myself checking my purse several times. I had come through the portal hear loaded with only the merest essentials, my brain still stuck in a mentality born of my many mining excursions underground. Next time I traveled to a new world, It would be with my inventory filled to bursting. I even wrote myself a note.
-
A quick stopover with in Riften with the East Empire Trading Company left me frustrared. Farengar hadn't been exaggerating about the cost. Ordering sufficient amounts of refined ebony would cost me thousands of septims, and a few thousand more up front as collateral. The glass would cost almost as much. Moonstone was comparitively cheap, but I wasn't in a position to pay for anything right now.
I could scavenge. Get in good with Enthir's buyers. I could even steal. Or...
I could slaughter every bandit between here and Morrowind.
-
I continued on my way, following the river and flying invisibly. There were only one or two ways to track an invisible target, and they were all very good at doing so, but not many people ran around with them. This was doing wonders for my skill levels, not so much for my heart when the spell petered out while in was in mid-air.
I started flying much higher after the first two time-outs.
-
The trip was not an entirely peaceful one. I landed at a ruined fort after catching sight of a flame atronach, and despite announcing myself its summoner attacked me without warning. A quick 'observe' from behind a ward told me he was a mage that had turned to banditry to fund 'certain habits.'
I blasted the atronach with ice while my pets mobbed and overwhelmed the summoner.
Looking at the corpse was...unpleasant. Observe had told me his title in neat little letters. Bandit mage. Human. Still not a mob. It was a distinction I wanted to be able to make. I didn't want to get into the mindset of checking the status of everyone I meet to see if I should kill them for money.
People, not pinatas.
I took the time to search the surroundings after burying the corpse in a rough cairn. I looted his tomes and ill-gotten gains, and disenchanted a robe of fire resistance hanging in his bedroom. Which was full of potions of fire resistance. And the bed was charred.
I got another level of cold resistance after jumping in the river for a quick scrubbing.
-
The next battle took place at a crumbing tower overlooking an old bridge. I could see men watching the road, and they were most definitely not imperial soldiers. I grimaced as the results of observe came up. This I would not regret at all.
I floated up to the top of the tower, finding an archer. The bandits were wary, but no one ever looks up.
An orc lost his head while he ate.
An imperial was pierced through the heart as he patrolled.
A massive Nord who sat counting coins in heavy armor had a dagger slipped between helmet and gorget. He bellowed and threw himself back, bowling me over. Maddened and rapidly staining the entire room red, he flailed madly with armored fists and kept me on the defensive through sheer ferocity. I tried to fly to the ceiling and wait him out, but he grabbed me by the ankle and started bouncing me off the walls. I abandoned tactics and just beat him over the head with my shield under he stopped, swayed and fell.
I renewed my invisibility and approached the door I as I heard shouting. A bosmer or breton, I wasn't sure, came racing up the stairs and I sent him tumbling back hard with a waterbolt. The fall stunned him, and I brought my sword down.
Then the door to my left slammed open, and a bandit came out bearing a well-crafted axe and shield, and she clearly knew how to use them. She had not, however, brought armor. Or clothes. Her figure made my heart skip at beat, and reminded me of another beautiful woman and a warm embrace. I was stunned by the memory, she was stunned by the corpse. We sized each other up...actually I just oogled her. My respect for her went up a few notches as she raised her shield out of wariness rather than modesty.
"Franz! Alexsi! Get your milk-white hides over here, NOW!"
"A Nord on the roof with a painted bow. Ugly orc with a notched axe. A big one in heavy armor, and this guy."
I let the Terra blade flick out, burning a line in the floor. It was hard to sound intimidating when you can't take your eyes off someone's breasts. As fantastic as they were.
"...Look, you...remind me of someone, and I'd really hate to fight-
She clearly didn't feel the same way, and the first hit nearly pulled my shield-arm out of its socket. I had to backpedal and parry with my blade, the energy if gave off brushing her face and making her flinch.
I took the opportunity to throw myself out a window. She poked her head out and got a waterbolt in the stomach. I floated back inside, keeping my distance and filling the room with bouncing projectiles. She braced and took one on her shield, and ducked another. The waterbolts were slow, and she was surprisingly agile and well-trained for a bandit. Most missed. As they began to dissipate, I flew in, shield-first. I knocked her off her feet, and my shoulder screamed in protest. She recovered quickly, and I bit back the pain and sprayed flames at foot-level.
She stumbled and fell, and I used telekinesis to grip her axe, pulling it wide. Even with the flat of my blade, the discharge burned her arm terribly, and she dropped the weapon.
"Please." I leveled the point of my sword at her throat in emphasis. "Just...go."
She looked at me with loathing, and I watched her dress so I wouldn't get stabbed in the back. The sight hurt worse than my arm. I tossed her axe outside, and after a very short internal debate, stopped her before she left to apply some healing magic. She only glared at me in return, and I knew it would be foolish to expect something different, all things considered.
I resisted the very stupid urge to chase after her and...what, flirt? Offer to buy her dinner?
It wasn't until halfway through cleaning out the tower for loot that I'd realized I'd been crying throughout the entire fight.
Damn it, I'm a mess.
-
I made my way to Sarethi farm on foot, having to land and ask for directions. I arrived on one small plot of land among many, and approached a cute dunmer girl (focus, please) who was sweeping the porch.
"Excuse me. I'm from the College of Winterhold. I'm looking for Sinderion the alchemist."
"Oh, he's...you're bleeding!"
"What?"
Oops. I'd forgotten to clean up.
"I'm fine. I just ran into some bandits is all."
"Bandits? Where? It must have been a terrible battle, you must tell me!"
Wha?
"Enough of that, Aduri."
"But sister!"
"Go fetch Sinderion, he'll be down by the riverside."
The younger sister moped and stomped off, while the older crossed her arms and gave me a look.
"...Sssooo. Is there somewhere I can clean up?"
-
Once I was presentable, I handed Sinderion my notes on gate construction. He hmm'ed and became making notes and calculations.
"Certainly among the most exacting requirements for elemental purity I've ever seen. What is this for, may I ask?"
"Reconstructing what I think is a Dwemer teleportation gate."
"Well I'm no expert on the Dwemer, but I've certainly seen nothing like this. Wherever did you find this design?"
"I...don't remember. I was alone for the longest time, and...not thinking clearly. I came back to myself after finding my way to Helgen somehow and being treated by the priests there. I found this and a few other strange things among my possessions. I think it's a clue to...something very important. I only know that I must build it."
Sinderion only nodded, absorbed in his work.
"Well, with sufficient materials I can easily infuse the metals with the purified salts. Do you have the needed amounts?"
"Not yet. The Easy Empire Trading Company charges an arm and a leg for ebony and glass, but I have people at the college gathering salts for me."
"Hmm. Well I'm planning an expedition, and I'd be happy to help you with this once I return. I should only be a few months."
Ah, crap. Crap crap crap.
"Where are you headed?"
"A Dwemer city called Blackreach. It should be quite exciting."
"Quite deadly, you mean. No offense, but if you're that casual about visiting Dwemer ruins then you're either an incredibly powerful battlemage or you've never seen the brutality that Dwemer animunculi or the Falmer are capable of."
"The Falmer? They're a sort of cave-dwelling elf related to the Dwemer, aren't they?"
-
It didn't take much to convince Sinderion of the danger, and since our interests aligned, he accepted my offer to travel with him as a bodyguard and assistant. Aduri wanted to come along, but we all shut her down pretty quickly.
My first job was to gather supplies for the trip, and I headed to Riften. I dropped the armor I took off the bandits at the local blacksmith for repair and re-fitting, it was far better than my current gear. I grabbed the basics - food, torches, lanterns, rope, a few alchemical bits Sinderion requested...After everything was in order, I went looking for a drink.
At the Bee and Barb, I had the mug at my lips when our eyes met.
No.
She reached for her axe.
Don't.
I took a swig.
Itdoesn'tworklikethatshesabanditcomeonwhatareyoudoing-
I think she was still angry with me.
"Oh hey there!" I said just loud enough for others to overhear. "I almost didn't recognize you with your clothes on!"
Yes. She was very angry with me.
"Observe." I spoke quietly.
*ping!*
Name: Brana Virilis
Class: Outcast
Race: Nord
Level: 37
HP ---
MP 210
Str 42
Dex 57
Vit 63
Int 14
Wis 11
Luk 9
Once married off to an Imperial merchant, she served faithfully as wife and warrior until the insults towards her heritage and belittling of her accomplishments became too much to bear. She turned to banditry after slaying him in a moment of anger and seeks recognition of her strength beyond all else.
Huh. I think I know why she's so pissed.
Ignoring the looks of the other patrons, I sat in the chair opposite Brana. I met her gaze and didn't look away, sitting down as if I didn't have a care in the world. For her part, all I got was a wordless snarl.
Ok, seriously. What the hell was I doing?
I had no idea. Roll with it.
"So...all joking aside, I was surprised to find someone with your kind of skill out...in the middle of nowhere."
It was faint, but the snarl turned smug for a fraction of a second.
"There have to be better jobs-better paying jobs, for an axe-arm like yours."
She relaxed, fractionally, and took an angry bite out of a piece of sad-looking bread.
"I'll manage. There's always work for someone like me."
"Work, yes. Good work, now that's a different story. And I want to hire someone I know is up to snuff."
"Not for all the septims in Skyrim, pissant."
"What's wrong? Scared of a few Falmer? A couple half-broken Dwemer toys?" I leaned closer and lowered my voice. "I'm going after something that can make us both more gold then you'd see in ten years of roughing up peasants. But if fat merchants and lost Imperials are all you can handle-"
She shot out of her seat, her chair kicked away, axe in hand. The rest of the patrons turned to look, but it the barkeep was the only one speaking up. Well, yelling at us to take it outside. I took one look at Brana, took an exaggerated look at the pathetic meal she was eating, and palmed a decent pile of coins out of my inventory, dropping them on the table.
"If you're really as good as you think you are, you've got a few days to meet up with me at Sarethi farm before I leave. Or you can go back to...what you were doing before, if that's what you want."
I stood, not taking my attention off her as I walked out.
Then I had a mild freakout outside. Just a little one. Sure, she was good, and I'd definitely want an extra body along when going to Blackreach. Assuming she didn't knife us all in our sleep. I couldn't be so desperate for a warm touch that I'd risk getting myself killed, could I?
...I hope the next world I visit has therapists.
-
I spent the next few nights in Riften in the company of some very pleasant ladies who were not armed or at all murderous. A freshly repaired suit of Nordic carved plate was fitted on, and I traded away my beat-up iron banding to defray the cost. It was heavier and unenchanted, but I was getting used to dealing with the cold by now and I needed to train my strength anyways. I rummaged through the local alchemists for salts and anything of interest. Once back at the College, I should have just enough. I double-checked I had everything I needed, along with a wagon to carry it all so I wouldn't have to reaveal the existance of my inventory.
I returned to Sarethi farm, to my surprise, to find Brana regaling a wide-eyed Aduri with tales of adventure. She frowned when I appeared and snarled at my grin. I managed not to say anything, no matter how cute the situation was.
A day later we were on our way to Irkngthand, and Blackreach beneath it.372QuantumshardFeb 17, 2017View discussionThreadmarks Dwemer Digs View contentQuantumshardFeb 20, 2017#75The wizards at the college had in fact devised a sort of alarm spell, and that it never tripped meant that Brana never tried to kill me in my sleep. And so the trip to Irkngthand was thankfully dull, outside of a pack of wolves one night who helped extend our provisions.
It wasn't until we arrived that things got interesting.
Thankfully whoever had directed Sinderion here had also given him a map, so we had a straight route to the great lift that would bring us to Blackreach. Doors had been left unlocked, animunculi were found broken, and traps were conveniently marked with paint or the blood of the unlucky.
The previous explorers hadn't gotten everything. Spiders leapt as us from side passages, and several spheres rolled out as we passed scenes of battle. Between myself and Brana it didn't amount to more than a few jump-scares, but the trip left us tense and twitchy. Once Sinderion finished fiddling with the Dwemer mechanism he'd purchased, we were on our way down.
Blackreach was...indescribable. What I remembered didn't even come close to the...the size, the scope, the alien beauty of the place. Looking out from my vantage point at the base of the lift, I wouldn't be surprised if it stretched underneath half of Skyrim. I really hope I visit a world where I can get a camera eventually, because I wanted memories of this place. The Dwemer touch was subtle, here. Most of the cave was wild and un-carved. We quickly passed from cut stone to worn trails, and found a building I remembered. Sinderion immediately declared it his field laboratory, as expected. Once our supplies were squared away, I helped Sinderion set up his equipment while Brana went off in a huff to scout the area, or just look for things to kill.
Sinderion was a pointy-eared bundle of joy, so we began moving as soon as he was set up. The crimson nirnroot was the focus of this expedition, but there were dozens of undocumented fungi, not counting the giant varieties.
The flow of magic here was...strange. Subtle. I don't know if it was because of how deep we were, or if it was something in the rock, but there was a slight pressure in what I felt. There were undercurrents like striations in rock, feelings I had no words for, and I had to strain to catch a glimpse of them. How much time did I have stored up? I could stay here for months just meditating and listening to the heartbeat of the world. I had to put that aside for now. The ability to sense mana was nothing close to precognition or a danger sense, but...there was magic in everything, even in the most mundane of objects. There was a...a flow, that could be felt, that gave a vaguest sense of the state of the surroundings, and magic felt so different here that is was a constant distraction given what I'd grown used to on the surface.
I found my attention constantly veering between the mystical and the physical. I walked right past a clutch of chaurus eggs one morning, and didn't realize it until one burst out and started clawing at my head.
I wrestled with it and burned it point-blank until I could throw it off, and finished it off with a focused blast. The sound of Brana's axe cutting apart more chaurus before they could hatch pulled me back to attention, and I joined her in hacking at the twitching pods. Sinderion tiptoed around the mess, and Brana looked at me with contempt as she followed him.
I'd spend every spare moment I had that night in meditation, familiarizing myself to the alien flows. Despite the number of pings indicating skill-ups, it didn't feel like much of a difference.
-
As he searched, Sinderion and I both got lucky. He got his nirnroot, and I found veins of ebony and gems untouched among the rocks. As I rifled through my inventory, I wondered if I'd seen any material besides their namesake metal used in Dwemer life. Besides clay and cloth...huh. Couldn't guess why. My pickaxe went to work, and I collected some choice chunks of ore and several impressive gemstones. After I hauled it all back and piled it around our field base I finally got a smile out of Brana. This time around, the unhappy look I got was from Sinderion.
"Excuse me, but I seem to recall that you need an Imperial charter to mine ebony..."
"No, it's fine."
"It is?"
"Oh course! It's just as fine as the private sale of a Dwemer artifact, you know."
Sinderion glanced at the key-sphere of a nearby shelf.
"But...that's..."
"Relax. It's not as if I'm smuggling or weapon-trafficking. This is for science."
"Well, when you put it like that..."
-
Our first week in Blackreach was mostly uneventful. Brana and I ambushed a few Falmer on patrol, slaying them all quickly and and dragging their bodies out of sight. I also successfully managed to modify waterbolt, turning it into a decent pressure-washer to clean up the scene and hopefully confuse any other Falmer that came looking for their kin.
Sinderion continued collecting nirnroot, while I found a few more things worth mining out. From the looks of things I wouldn't need to buy any ebony, and might have enough left over to afford glass. The sight of a growing pile of uncut gems in a corner of the building we'd taken over made Brana become...well, not talkative, but a little more animated beyond snarls, grunting, and don't-look-at-me glares.
It still stung that there was a perfectly nice, warm, soft body just a few feet away from me each night...
Maybe if I brought back a pile of Falmer skulls she'd warm up to me a little? A bouquet of chaurus antennae? Nah, she'd probably want first crack at a centurion or something. Maybe if I went in first and...stop. Just stop. She has an axe and she's looking for an excuse to use it.
Just admire her from a safe distance. When she's not looking.
-
Sinderion had no interest in picking through Dwemer ruins, but when our search for nirnroot intruded on them I convinced him that Brana and I had to take a quick look, if only to make sure no Falmer of chaurus were nesting there.
The buildings were oddly empty. No tapestries, equipment, signs of habitation, even the temporary sort. No Falmer either, but then they seemed to prefer building their own homes instead of using existing Dwemer dwellings.
One building was a storeroom, maybe. It was full of mismatched junk. Replacement parts, tools, mechanisms I couldn't make sense of. A closet was actually a very tiny armory where I claimed a Dwemer crossbow. I gave it to Brana and showed her how to use it. She accepted it with a less-angry grunt and seemed to like it.
Huh, so she likes gifts of-will you stop that!
-
Somehow, I expected Blackreach to be more heavily populated. I mean, probably the only way in was the Dwemer lifts, but It was big enough for herd animals or something. This wasn't Dwarf Fortress, sure...hey, I just remembered that was a thing! The Dwemer built rather spartan, except for ornamental carvings.
But it still seemed...off. I couldn't put my finger on why though.
-
Since Sinderion and I had reached an understanding regarding our quasi-legal excursion, I decided to speed up our search by taking to the air. Doing so probably saved all our lives.
Hidden by a ridge we were about to pass was a very large Falmer encampment. Dozens of huts were parked around the lake we were heading towards. Brana wanted to kill them all, I wanted to kill them all, but we all knew that it wasn't something we could handle. I had to remind myself that they wouldn't play by game rules with aggro ranges and balanced encounters. This was a hornet's nest we did not want to poke.
We kept further searches far away, and it took no effort to get Brana to spar with me so I could get used to wearing heavy armor. My efforts were paying off in pings for both skills and attributes, but I felt like it was never enough.
-
The Falmer shrieked as a perfectly silent arrow struck it square in the heart. The others howled and spread out, waving their weapons, but I could see the hesitation in their movements. I took careful aim at a scout with no helmet, and it dropped without a sound. Another fell, spasming. Brana got impatient and took aim with her crossbow, knocking a larger Falmer down who flopped around where he landed.
Poison is awesome.
But now the Falmer had a target, and the group swarmed towards the outcropping she had ducked behind.
"Summon flame atronach. Fireball."
The Falmer split in confusion, one group going after the threat they'd identified for certain and the other going after what had just appeared. I picked out a Falmer on the outside of the bunch and flew downwards, sword in hand. The group fractured once again as something very quiet began killing them.
This was the third group we'd fought so far. Our first ambush of a few Falmer had been easy. The next group we'd encountered had been slightly larger. But now the Falmer were sending out groups no smaller than a dozen, and they ranged far, fast, and randomly. They knew we were here now. We'd avoided a few, but this group had cornered us near a pumping station, and we'd set up an ambush. While my new armor could take hits better than my old gear, it made more noise and attracted more attention. As I hammered on the last one until his shield broke and his chest was torn open, I resolved once again to find or research a sonic spell.
Sinderion peeked his head out from behind cover as we began making sure they were dead. He looked a little green, and made little noise as he stepped out clutching a basket of nirnroot. I'd impressed upon him the value of learning the muffle spell, but he'd been too stubborn and too engrossed in his work to learn anything else. I expected that to change after this.
-
Brana leaned against the wall while I paced. Sinderion was flipping through his notebooks, making calculations.
"Sinderion, Brana and I can't take on an entire village of Falmer, and that's exactly what we're going to be facing if we don't leave soon."
"But you handily...err, handled the last group we encountered."
"Because they didn't know what we could do." Brana spoke up, patting her axe. "A week ago, they lost a handful. Today, they lost a dozen. Tomorrow, they'll probably send an army."
"Even if they don't know who, what, or where we are, whatever passes for leaders among the Falmer know that something is killing their men. Brana's right. Falmer aren't the sort to cower and hope the danger passes them by. We need to leave. Sooner the better."
"But...I just need a little more! Just three or four more samples, then I'll have everything I need."
"Then I'll fetch them. I can travel faster and easier alone, and you've shown me how to harvest the plants properly. Right now, we need to start packing. Get everything essential and be ready to leave at a moment's notice."
I didn't miss where Brana's eyes wandered to.
"Yes Brana, the gems are essential. I do try to keep my promises."
"What about your ebony?" She asked. "The wagon we brought can't carry half that."
"I ate a very nice book about blacksmithing once. Maybe I can cut down the weight a little."
-
Ignoring Sinderion's and Brana's bemused expressions, I left them to pack up while I went looking for a few good bricks. I had no wood, charcoal, or even a decent runic setup like in the Alftand annex, so this would be rough. Very rough.
First I found a nice patch of dirt, smoothed it out, and put down a layer of Dwemer blocks I'd pulled from one of the ruined buildings here. A ring of perfectly-fitted bricks on top of that made a crude mold.
Then, practice. I started with the spells least likely to kill me if I screwed up. Telekinesis with my left hand, lifting a chunk of ore. Candlelight with the right. Then Oakflesh. Lesser ward.
I screwed up healing hands. The ore fell, and I felt the bones in my arm ache. Still-
*ping!*
The skill level of 'multicasting' has increased by 1
Alright, swap over.
I raised my hands, and concentrated. Flames flickered, than rushed out. Concentrate. The flames grew more intense. Focus. A wave became a stream. Relax. The stream spread into a wave. Gently. An inferno became a heat wave.
Again.
-
*ping!*
The skill level of 'Improvised spellcasting' has increased by 1
Again.
-
*ping!*
Heat resistance has increased to level 5.
This skill is at the maximum level for your current vitality score.
Heat wanted to radiate, to spread out, to escape. I had no spells even vaguely resembling thermokinesis, I could only raise an elemental shield and bear the heat. The skin on my hands was cracked and dry. My face hurt with every wave of hot air. I paused every so often to let myself soak in a stream nearby. I opened my mouth and let water run it. I'd endured worse. I stood and returned to my makeshift forge, raising my hands.
AGAIN.
-
*ping!*
A new spell has been devised.
What would you like to name it?
...
New spell 'Floating furnace' created.
From a safe distance, Brana and Sinderion came looking for me after they finished packing, and could only gawk at the sight before them.
Kneeling before a rough stone platform, a ball of eye-searing brightness was held between my palms. A chunk of ore was suspended within, slag falling away as liquid ebony was suspended, boiling, in the air. When no more impurities fell, the mostly-pure material was poured into a mold of stone bricks. I'd needed to build a lot more molds. This was the last.
As the heat subsided, Sinderion gingerly picked up an empty bottle, wiping a drop off the rim and naming the contents with barely a look.
"Magicka potions? It's unhealthy to drink so many in such a short period of time."
I didn't need him or the pop-up describing the debuff I'd been hit with to tell me that.
"I'll be fine in a few minutes. This spell is a glutton for magicka."
"You...melted ebony?"
I was too tired to turn around, but there was a note in her tone I'd not heard before.
"I once saw a condemned man wearing an ebony breastplate used as target practice by a squad of battlemages. The smith pulled it out of a pile of ash and the armor didn't have a scratch on it."
"Well...I've been practicing. And it's still pretty rough. Leave it alone, though. It'll shatter into tiny fragments if it's cooled too fast."
I struggled to my feet. I thought bottoming out my mana felt bad, but it had nothing on rapidly expending and refilling my mana artificially. A dozen times or so. In the space of what...a few hours?
Ug.
"Are you going to be alright?"
"I'll be fine. I just..."
I swayed, the local mana field playing merry hell with raw and oversensitive mana-nerves. Do I even have mana-nerves? What did I feel mana with then? I fell on my ass, and the world spun.
In my everything, I learned.
-
Despite their protests, I told them to park themselves at the lift and wait there for me. Muffled and invisible, I ranged far from where we'd been searching. Only a small fraction of Blackreach had been seen so far, but at least nirnroot was easy to find. I flew between giant luminescent mushrooms and above crystals formations that sang a siren song to my mana senses. I kept to the water and mushroom clusters, straining my eyes and ears for the distinctive glow and tones the herb produced.
One between a pair of boulders. Another beneath a mushroom. And three more, stretched along a rocky shore. I approached the last carefully, but the surroundings were flat and empty, with no possibility of ambush. I harvested them quickly and carefully, stowing them away and racing back to the lift.
A quick flight and we'd be in the clear.
-
FUCK.
I knew the shrieks of Falmer by heart. I tossed the nirnroot into my inventory, secrecy be damned, and drew my weapons.
"Shield. Flame cloak."
Far ahead, I could see two figures on the steps of the great lift of Irkngthand. They were surrounded by little dark shapes scurrying around the base of the steps. The stairs were speckled with shapes both moving and still.
How was I doing for mana? Good? Good. I landed on a rock for just a moment to focus properly before taking off again.
"Fortify strength. Fortify intelligence. Fortify Agility. Fireball!"
I strafed the Falmer mass, trying to break up their momentum. Brana was at the top of the stairs, axe rising and falling, surrounded by corpses. Sinderion was in the lift, cowering behind the wagon.
"How the hell does anyone live in a world full of monsters and demons and not learn a few combat spells or how to swing a sword? You're an Altmer, you've been around for how many years? How did you survive through the Oblivion crisis? WHAT IS YOUR EXCUSE?!"
I couldn't hear his answer above the mayhem, and floated above and next to Brana.
"Golden shower!"
Shrieks of rage turned to shrieks of pain. I'd grown to dislike this spell, but it was an effective one. I cast it over and over, all but drowning the Falmer below in acid, while Brana finished off the last one within reach.
"Let's go!"
"We can't! We lost the key-thing!"
Ah, dammit. There were still a dozen Falmer milling around the base of the stairs. I lent Brana some quick healing. She was more exhausted than injured. Healing magic was a rush, but one that wore off quickly. Hopefully it would energize her for just long enough.
I floated back, landing and turtling behind my shield. This wasn't a spell I had a lot of practice with.
I concentrated on the image of the sphere-key. Its color. Its weight. The feel of Dwemer metal. The hum and clicks of gears as it activated the lift. Everything I could remember of it. The totality of all that made it What It Was and I pushed the image into clarity and separated the sphere-image from What It Was Not.
"Clairvoyance..."
A faint glow...a ghostly tether between myself and the object of my desire. Not far. The sphere had fallen and rolled...there!
"Flight!"
I flew low, slicing at Falmer as I passed.
"Now chase me you little shits!"
Half the Falmer took the bait, hop-running after the flying, noisy foe. I'd lost focus on the spell, but the sphere wasn't too hard to find, bright against the rock. The Falmer got a face-full of acid as they came close, and I prepared to take off.
My ebony.
Fuck.
I looked at the lift. I looked at the building we'd claimed in the distance.
I looked farther, and saw a tide of twitching insects and their riders cresting a distant hill.
"Telekinesis!"
I flung-pushed the sphere through the air, directing it as far as I could, and saw Sinderion leap out to grab it before returning to cover. Brana waved at me with her axe, calling me over.
I saluted her with my sword, and flew.
I needed that ebony.
-
This would be close, but I had a plan. Kind of.
I dropped my fortification spells, along with every bit of dead weight from my inventory. I exchanged my sword for my pickaxe, landed heavily, and brought it down. A mold shattered, and a touch pushed the ingot into my inventory. Again and again and again.
An arrow skittered over the ground next to me. That horde was getting awfully close.
"Demon scythe."
I broke another mold, feeling the breeze from the spinning blade. Then it was away, and something screamed in the distance. Mold. Scythe. Mold. Scythe.
I could feel my MP going down. Ebony was damned heavy. At this rate...
*ping!*
You lucky sonovabitch. Luck has increased by 1.
What part of this situation is-
*ping!*
Inventory has increased to level 3.
Current storage cost: 1MP per 3 kilograms.
Current maximum capacity: 4.05 tons
Gamer OP. Plz don't nerf.
I broke the last mold. I was running on dregs, even hitting the next level of Inventory had only taken the edge off. There was an army on the way, I felt like shit, and I had to accept that even after all of this, I'd probably never get Brana into bed with me.
"Flight!"
As the lift came into view, I consoled myself that at least the Falmer were having an even worse day than me, and tossed out one last fiery 'fuck thou' before the gate closed between us.
*ping!*
Your level has increased by one.398QuantumshardFeb 20, 2017View discussionThreadmarks Silence View contentQuantumshardFeb 23, 2017#95With Irkngthand behind us, we slowly made our way to Windhelm, exhausted but alive. Sinderion couldn't wait to get started on his research, Brana was spent a lot of time admiring her gems, and I plodded along. Ebony was heavy, and I'd found a lot of it. Even with my last-second level-up, my inventory was still a weight in my gut I felt for the entire trip.
The plan was that Sinderion would return with me to the mages guild, perform the infusions, and then return to his work. The College would no doubt be abuzz with his discovery. The alchemists would likely throw a party. A very wizardly party. Does alchemy include brewing? Must find out.
But as we got closer to town, even Sinderion pulled his head out of his notes and noticed that something was wrong.
Signs of a fight were everywhere. The tell-tale marks of elemental magic had blackened and cracked the walls around the gate and there was some kind of commotion near the docks. The few soldiers I could see were joined by what I guessed were militia by their mismatched arms and armor.
People were scared. Something had happened, but what? A dragon?
We were rudely accosted by a group of men as we approached the gate, and I kicked one of them away for getting grabby. Weapons were drawn. Even without Observe, I could see they were no great threat. It wasn't until a proper soldier arrived and we started yelling at each other then I finally realized what was going on.
Ulfric Stormcloak had slain high king Torygg, and several Jarls had rejected Ulfric's claim of a lawful duel.
It would mean civil war.
-
Ulfric had expelled every Imperial legionnaire from the city at sword-point. Some had resisted. The survivors had rallied at the docks, barricading themselves into the trading company's warehouses, arming themselves with whatever they could find.
Naturally this caused the company employees to completely lose their shit, and I could see Imperials in fancy dress screaming their lungs out at anything and everything. Even if the impending fight didn't burn the whole place down, it could be weeks or even months before decent trade started up again. This was the only reliable source of glass in all of Skyrim, not being a commonly-used material. I followed Sinderion and Brana into the city just long enough to find a place to dump my ebony before chugging a magicka potion and making my way to the docks. Maybe I could defuse the situation, somehow?
Hopefully without just killing everyone involved.
-
Clearly there was something about this place, because despite offering everything I needed, nothing good had ever come out of my dealings with the East Empire Trading Company. I began pushing my way through the crowd and headed for the fanciest-looking person I could find. I wouldn't get in a word edgewise through all the screaming, and I strongly considered setting a few people on fire. I knew it wouldn't help...but I really wanted to. I really, really wanted to.
I cast some protective spells and walked straight up to the warehouse doors. I ignored the calls of the guards and the arrows aimed at me and continued walking.
"HELLO IN THERE!"
"Back! Back if you don't wish to be slain!"
"Do you have any idea how much shit I've had to put up with when dealing with this company? I'm at my wit's end here! Just a few pounds of glass and moonstone is all I need, and now all of this happens! Do you think you're the only one having a bad day? I have work to do!"
It had gone very quiet all of a sudden.
Looking around, I realized everyone had stopped whatever they were doing to look at me.
"What?"
I turned around to wave at the soldiers inside the warehouse.
"Look, I'll go talk to the Jarl! Do me a favor and don't start any wars before I get back!"
Too annoyed to care, I took to the air.
To the castle I go.
-
Even in a world of magic, flying people attracted attention.
Flying over a castle wall attracted arrows.
Flying into the castle attracted hordes of screaming Nords jumping and trying to hit you with axes because they forgot their bows at their posts.
It took me a moment to realize why, since I hadn't stolen anything.
Oh yeah. I'd just broken into the castle of the man who'd just slain the high king. Now, up until now conversations with other people had been pretty straightforward. Like, standard dialogue wheel stuff. But now I was required to...talk to people. Even discounting everything I've been through, it's something I've always been absolutely terrible at.
I really had not thought this plan through.
-
"So..."
The small army that surrounded me tensed. Ulfric stood before his throne, his housecarl standing in front and ready to lay into me.
"Jarl Ulfric. I apologize for the intrusion, but there's something I must bring to your attention."
Good manners. Always important.
"Imperial soldiers have barricaded themselves within the warehouses below the city, and are preparing to receive a siege."
"I'm aware. And they will be expelled soon."
"You must know how difficult that will be." I floated downwards, ignoring the ring of steel points aimed at my throat. "The warehouses are fortresses unto themselves, and well-stocked with supplies."
Ulfric frowned. He wasn't an idiot, he had to know that. Damn it, how do I do this? Talk. Establish common ground.
"And the longer they hold the warehouses, the longer those supplies go undistributed. Tools. Food. The essentials of keeping Skyrim running."
"How do the affairs of Skyrim concern an outsider?"
"Honestly? I had some really important business planned for today that just won't work with an occupying army in the way."
Aaand now he thinks I'm an idiot.
"Well, that and the pointless bloodshed. Isn't there any way to convince them to leave peacefully? A word from you? A guarantee of safe passage?"
"I offered such. They refused." Ulfric sat heavily on his throne, resting his sword within easy reach. "Many are kin, and none more than I would see them away without more death. But they are warriors to a man, and would rather see Sovngarde than betray the oaths they've made, as unworthy as their masters are."
"That's..."
I sighed.
I was afraid I knew how this was going to end.
And I was afraid that there was only one way to stop it.
-
I landed back at the docks.
"Status."
*ping!*
Name: T͂̑̏̍ͩͩ҉̦a̭̩͓̱̍ͦͮ̚͜k̳̤͎̟̀e̸͍̻̤̫̭̒͒ͣ̆ͩ̂n̘̊ ̗̗̗̞̋ͥ̀ͅa̱s̫̯͈̞͋̅̊̽ͨ̋ ̤̺͙p͏͖̩͉̜̩͎ā͉̫̋̅̏̀y͕̜ͯ̍m̬̞̘ͧͦ͋͌̍̚̚e̙̥̳̾̊̍͊̃ͦn̠̻͔̳͚ͣͯ̔̐ͬͮt̷͉͌̀
Class: Gamer
Level: 53
HP 0 (765)
MP 112/112 (1350)
Str 39
Dex 58
Vit 63
Int 90
Wis 57
Luk 58
Unspent points: 10
Too bad that happier memories wouldn't be associated with this milestone.
Int>>>100
*ping!*
A skill has been upgraded by Int being raised to 100
Adept of the Arcane
MP regen rate increased by 25%
Enemy magic resistance reduced by 10%
MP costs of mana skills reduced by 10%
Spell effects increased by 20%
Maximum MP now equals (int x20)
Chance of spell failure reduced by 25%
I was not in a mood to enjoy my new stats.
"Overcharge Resist Normal Weapons. Overcharge Shield. Overcharge Fortify Strength. Overcharge Fortify Dexterity."
Even with my new limits, the strain was felt. But for a short time I'd be a very dangerous thing to fight.
I strode through the crowd. It parted and grew silent at my approach. Expectation was in the air. My little declaration earlier had captured their attention. Now it was time for the show. I raised my voice for all to hear.
"Soldiers of the Imperial legion, hear me! Your duty compels you to fight, but I say duty is best served by living to fight another day. Jarl Ulfric has promised safe passage for any who would leave, and I beg you to take his offer."
Shouts of defiance and a few colorful insults were their response.
"Very well then. To avoid pointless death, I have asked Ulfric for the honor of being his champion in this matter. Bring forth your officers, so that this matter can be settled between men. No one else-" I turned to point at the Windhelm guards behind me. "-shall-"
The twang of a bowstring released, the rush of an arrow in flight.
"-Interfere."
I held up the arrow I'd caught for all to see, adding a bit of amateur theatrics as I tossed it aside with contempt.
I drew sword and shield. Magic crackled as I slammed the two together, and stalked forwards. Two more arrows came, and I cut them out of the air. I picked up the pace, and enhanced dexterity carried me forwards faster then I had time to plan. The gate was hurriedly pushed shut and barred, but it was merely iron-banded wood.
A tiny sun formed, and I directed it to float in a circle. I caught the cut-out section with telekinesis and heard arrows slam into it. Floating in the air as a second shield, it preceded me as I rushed inside.
-
The Imperial legion was well-trained. A foe quite unlike bandits or Falmer. As the broken gate flew inside, soldiers in the way dove aside even as others moved to flank the moving barricade. But footmen hesitated in their planned charge when they saw it fall to the ground with no one behind it.
Hypersensitive in the heat of battle, an archer heard the sound of footsteps, and cried a warning. The lieutenant, a balding Imperial who was standing behind a row of men with shields, immediately began looking around.
He saw the distortion in the air caused by a roughly-cast invisibility spell before I separated his head from his shoulders. His bodyguards turned as one, and the wave off the Terra Blade burned several. I parried their retaliation with no grace, smashing our blades together as hard as I could. One blade was dropped, another was broken. Two men stumbled from the force, and I ignored the rest as I returned to the air. A cut from the last man across my shin as I rose was barely felt.
There were perhaps a hundred men in the large warehouse. They'd taken a textbook approach and begun creating layered defenses. I'd broken through the first. Crates had been stacked on the stairway leading to an upper office, and archers on that high perch were already taking shots at me. The shores of the sea entrance were fortified as well.
If I landed, I'd be hemmed in. If I flew, I'd be used as target practice.
But I needed to find the officers, and so I trusted in my armor and spells. I felt the impact of an arrow before I'd finished the thought, and it hit with the force of a light slap. If there were battlemages in here, I might be in trouble. But until they show themselves...
I flew towards the dock, aiming at a man in a plumed helmet. I didn't want to look at this one's face. I didn't want to remember it. I flew low, hit the ground running, ducked and lifted at the last moment, shield high, sword low. Momentum carried us both into the water, and I felt his frantic thrashing, pinned on my blade, held down by my shield. I waited until his struggles stopped, and shot out of the water.
A hail of arrows and javelins greeted me. One came close to my throat but glanced off my armor's high collar. A dozen smacked into my back, but steel and spell kept them from doing more than making me wobble in flight.
I landed on a high shelf, hid behind a crate, and traded flight for invisibility and muffle. The hail of arrows did not relent, but I slipped between them and dropped, hitting the ground. I kept moving and climbed a nearby ladder as soldiers came running.
"Inventory." I whispered.
Another officer's plume bobbed as he directed soldiers to encircle the area.
I focused and warped a spell beyond its normal purpose, then refreshed it on myself and leaned out of cover.
A perfectly silent and invisible arrow struck him in the eye.
I stored my bow, drew my sword and took flight once more.
A knot of men came barreling down the aisle, and I landed square in the officer's path. His subordinates formed a line of shields between us. They rushed forwards, resolute and unflinching as I raised my free hand and pointed at the man they protected.
"I'm sorry."
- - -
Windhelm guards raised their weapons at the first sign of movement since the stranger had forced his way inside. First one, then two, then a line of Imperial soldiers walked sullenly from the shadows of the warehouse, unarmed.
People gawked. A few cheered, but only a few. Some wept in joy. A long posting meant acquiring family and friends. I left as invisibly as I'd entered. I stayed just long enough to see bodies being pulled out. Someone from the crowd wailed in pain and threw themselves onto one of the bodies lain upon the docks. The sound would chase me back to the city and into my dreams that night.
- - -
I did not have the shelter of acting in madness or against criminals to justify what I'd done.
A term floated out of my memories. Moral Calculus. By killing a few, I had saved others. A comforting, neat little thought exercise thrown around by people who didn't have the slightest fucking clue what they were talking about.
I had been summoned the next day to the Palace of the Kings by Ulfric. Several of his men had congratulated me on my victory. Even his grim housecarl gave me an approving nod. By acting alone, I'd kept Ulfric's hands clean in the eyes of the people. One champion against many, magnanimous in victory and allowing the enemy's subordinates to leave with their lives and honor intact.
It was very Skyrim. Someone would probably write a song about it. I hoped to never hear it.
I ignored them all. Ulfric left his throne as I approached. He had been planning to say something, but when our eyes met there was no need. He knew. And he understood.
Not a word was spoken, and the message made my heart hurt a little bit less.378QuantumshardFeb 23, 2017View discussionFirst Prev2 of 5Next LastThreadmarksStaff PostView content23 more messages… Not open for further replies. ShareSimilar threadsTourist |A Planetary Annihilation Self-Insert Multicross Fic!|The Guardian Audience Words: 5k armored core 6 planetary annihilation self insertReplies 15Feb 24, 2026Commanding Through the Omniverse (Planetary Annihilation Self-Insert Multicross)BlitzKrieg-T1 Words: 15k 1 ... 6 7 8 james cameron's avatar planetary annihilation self insertReplies 199Feb 4, 2026God forbid I ever become a lady! (Historical/Gamer SI)FonFondom Words: 7.1k original angst time travelReplies 22Today at 2:58 PMA Life Worth Living [Multicross OC/SI]Aelia Words: 3.3k highschool dxd naruto pathfinderReplies 6Jan 19, 2026Marvel: The Rise of Paragon (Gamer SI-OC/Reincarnation)LMKerr Words: 15k 1 2 3 4 marvel gamer reincarnationReplies 93Feb 8, 2026 Creative Writing Remove this ad spaceStyle chooserContact usTerms and rulesPrivacy policyHelpRSS