Meeting of the Powerful - Origins - Chapter 3: Grips-The-Souls

• Posted by Morthevin May 10, 2014 - 784 views

  Fredas, 16th of Second Seed, 4E 202

  Solstheim is as barren a waste as I would have expected, but the dark elf wizard can teach me much about enchanting. Why travel to a College in Winterhold, and pay thousands of Septims for enchanting, when I can just do it myself?

  This is my way of thinking. The wizard, Neloth, helps me. And now, under his tutelage, I can bring power to my weapons.

  Despite all this, however, something is wrong within the confines of Tel Mithryn. There are two other Dunmer, who have just arrived from Blacklight, or so they claim. They may wear the robes of House Telvanni, but I fear that their allegiance lies elsewhere. They're brother and sister, I'd guess, as they both share the same orange hair colour. Their skin is darker than that of most Dunmer, and they both have blood red eyes. Falthyr Eldryon claims to be but a simple Telvanni fire mage, bringing his quest for knowledge to Solstheim.

  His sister, Vareli, has a more sinister air about her. She is a simple practitioner of the shock element, she says. Like her brother, she is simply there for knowledge. But even that can have different meaning. I've left them to their petty claims until I sense that something is amiss. Maybe I can use their souls for enchanting...

  Loredas, 17th of Second Seed, 4E 202

  I awoke this morning, and moved out of my room, rather clumsily. Neloth sat at a rounded table, sipping from a cup of canis root tea. He turned to me and stared, as if expecting me to say something, before speaking himself in his pompous tone, “Yes? I'm a busy man, apprentice. If you have something to say, say it and leave.”

  I calmly repied, “Good morning, Neloth.”

  “That's Master Neloth to you. Such disrespect. I am your mentor in the craft of enchanting. You are learning from the best in Tamriel, I daresay. All I ask, is a bit of politeness, and recognition for who I am.”

  Before I could make a witty remark, I was interrupted by Vareli, who simply passed me by, a cup of canis root tea in her hand, not regarding me in the slightest. She sat at the table, opposite from Neloth, and began sipping from her cup. She began a conversation with Neloth, not caring if I was listening or not. I fully expected her to accuse me of eavesdropping by the end of it.

  “Thank you for allowing us to stay here, Neloth. I do sincerely appreciate your kindness and consideration in the decision. I know that Falthyr and I can be a burden, and I would understand if you disagreed to allow us to take up residence here.”

  Her voice had a certain wickedness to it. Neloth took no note of it, and replied as politely as he could, “Yes, of course. The pursuit of knowledge is indeed a noble one.”

  I turned away, disappointed by Neloth's blindness to the situation. I descended the tower, and upon opening the round, polished door, was greeted by the ash wastes of Solstheim, the dust rolling in the air. I saw Falthyr practising his fire magic. He turned, and beckoned for me to approach.

  He smiled, and spoke with a heavy Dunmer accent, “Come, come now, friend. Grips-The-Souls, is that right? We can't be that bad. Yes, I know of your suspicions, and I understand them. A pair of mages that claim to be members of House Telvanni appear at the doorstep of a great wizard, and request a home for a few weeks. But I can assure you, there is nothing wrong with us.”

  “You say that like there is...”

  “You'll come to believe me in due time.”

  “Of course I will...”

  Falthyr smiled once more, and continued his studies. I'm beginning to doubt more than ever that his intentions are less than benevolent. He seemed too good and kind, on the outside at least.

  After we were done, Vareli passed me by once more, this time shooting me a smile before joining her brother. They were whispering, but their talk was inaudible from where I was standing. I ignored them, and returned to the tower. Inside, I was met by Neloth standing above an enchanting bench.

  In one hand, he gripped a black soul gem, and in the other, a dagger crafted from ebony, with elaborate patterns carved into the hilt and blade. He dropped the dagger onto the bench, and crushed the gem above it. A purple stream then flowed from his closed palm into it. I watched as this swept away all my troubles. He turned to me and said, “Never seen somebody enchant as well as I have? I expected as much.”

  I went and made myself some canis root tea, and sat at the rounded table, still in awe of what I saw earlier. For the rest of the day, I sipped at my beverage and wondered if I would ever be as good at enchanting as Neloth is. Now, it may be best to get some sleep.

  Sundas, 18th of Second Seed, 4E 202

  I woke to Neloth standing above me, and the teacup shattered on the floor. It became apparent to me that I had fallen asleep whilst drinking tea. I immediately got to cleaning the mess, the Telvanni wizard standing tall and imposing above me. I gathered the shards, and emptied them into a small container.

  I set out for Raven Rock, to see if I could get any enchanting supplies, or at least have dinner at The Retching Netch. Those elves were driving me nuts. Raven Rock was one place I could go where people weren't always so condescending.

  I walked through the gate, politely nodding to the Redoran Guard as I passed. When I entered the Retching Netch, a tankard flew in my direction, and I ducked as it struck the door. An intoxicated Dunmer stumbled up to me, and lazily gestured to the side. I moved, and the Dunmer reached down to claim his tankard, before falling face-first on the ground. This made me laugh on the inside.

  I sat down casually on a bench, warming myself by the fire, and enjoying the noise. It was a welcome change from the quiet and sometimes eerie atmosphere of Tel Mithryn. There was no study here. No peace. Only cheer. I ordered a small meal, finished it, and paid the innkeeper before deciding to return to the tower.

  The plains were as dull as ever, and the ash was swept up in the air, moving in circular motions. The darkness was falling over Solstheim, but luckily for me, Tel Mithryn was already in view.

  In the distance, I could make out two silhouettes, unhindered by the darkness in any way. As they neared, long orange hair became visible on their heads. Their skin was very dark, and they wore the robes of House Telvanni. Blood red eyes somehow gleamed in the darkness.

  Falthyr gathered fire to his palm, and shot it forth, narrowly missing me. Vareli now took the opportunity to attack, and spun, releasing three thunderbolts from her hand. I ducked and rolled, before drawing an ebony sabre, enchanted by myself. It sounded like an icicle. I charged, and swung my sword at Vareli, beams of moonlight reflecting off the blade. She backed away as quickly as I swiped, and a stream of lightning erupted from her fingers. I fell to my knees, my scales burning under the intensity of her attack.

  She lowered her arms, and stopped to gloat in her victory. I took the moment, and made it mine, rising from my seemingly defeated position, and kicking at Vareli's chin, her brother gasping in shock as she fell back, unconscious. He lifted his arms, and flames poured from his hands, striking the ground beside me, as ash rose. I smiled, “Missed...”

  I lunged at Falthyr, and swept my leg beneath his, tripping him. His backed slammed onto the ashen ground, and seconds later, my sword was at his neck. He panicked, and attempted to speak, but was careful not to gulp, lest my sword pierce his throat. Before any words could escape his mouth, I heard footsteps approaching behind me. I turned, and saw a hooded figure rising out of the darkness. He raised his hand, and cold power was drawn to his palm in a whirlwind motion. At this sign of hostility, I threw my sabre straight at him, as fine a shot as ever. He moved to the side as the blade neared him, and opened a book, pages facing me directly. Writhing tendrils emerged from the spine. They whipped out at me, and my vision turned dark.

  I awoke to meet an endless library of sorts, with a sea of black sludge surrounding me. I raised me head to see a swirling mass of tentacles materialise above. I clutched at my sabre, before remembering that it wasn't there. I am alone, and I am unarmed.