Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 416: Chapter XXXVI: A Dry Welcome



Rejoice soup enjoyers as yet another ascends up the ranks and unto eternal glory!

The house gives thanks to Hakkira for their most valiant effort in bolstering its might, may you remain as wise as the masses remain hungry.

I stood in place for a long while, my eyes closed as I simply let myself drift in the oddly familiar feeling I never felt until now. It was something akin to Kyne's warm embrace except much, much weaker and utterly constant.

Letting out a short, satisfied exhale, my eyes blinked open, revealing the still fully armored visage of Anondor. The Paladin did not need to say anything, the question in his eyes was clear.

"Merely enjoying the air." Is what I said, unwilling to elaborate further "How close are we?"

He still looked a bit curious but he was disciplined enough not to ask, dutifully giving his report but a moment later "Just under an hour or so the caravan master said. He kept praising your work and the inevitable uptick in trade now that the road isn't liable to ruin one cart in three."

Shaking my head with a light chuckle on my lips I say "Just imagine his reaction if he learned I did it all out of sheer boredom."

"Personally, I don't think he would mind it either way." The Paladin points out reasonably.

I shrug "The thought is still entertaining."

We continued talking about nothing important for a while longer, helping to pass the time as the five thousand strong caravan and its one thousand guards trudged along the pristine roads left behind me.

The constant channeling of Magicka for a full day was quite pleasant after holding back for so long and combined with the oddly welcoming air my mood was thoroughly improved by now.

Naturally, the world had to be an absolute fucking shit about it and the moment we finally stepped out of the pass just north of Kragenmoor I got to actually see my ancestral homeland, and with my sight I could see quite a lot...

Abject fucking poverty.

To be fair this was the southernmost domain of the Redoran, just a bit north of the Black Marsh border and raids were reportedly a constant near yearly thing so the area being impoverished wasn't that much of a real surprise.

But that was not it, even this far south, so very removed from the influence of the Red Mountain, the ashes still smothered a good part of the soil not covered by errant forests or low hills, utterly ruining a massive chunk of the once good farmland and thus the rest of the economy.

And this was the western part of Stonefalls to boot! A region once known as the oddly green part of Morrowind... I could only shake my head in dismay as I imagined just how bad things were on the coasts facing Vvardenfell.

So dismayed was I in fact, that an idea started forming in my mind, the western winds summoned by my thoughts only serving to guide my thoughts further as the boldest of concepts came to me, and was swiftly refined into a plan.

Oh yes, I could work with this.

(General POV)

North of the fortified city of Kragenmoor, if the heavily depleted settlement could even be called that anymore, at the edge of the pass leading into Cyrodiil, stood a weathered caravanserai. The building was large in general but relatively small for its purpose, an inn, a stable for both guar and horse, and a low wall meant more to keep out wildlife than anything that could stand on two legs.

It was in front of this weathered building, once a thriving domain of a Hlaalu merchant branch, that a trio of figures stood waiting.

One was an immensely tall specimen of their kind, clad in orichalc plates further protected and embellished with chitin, he leaned on his glaive and allowed his thoughts to trail off.

His barely shorter mirror on the other hand, was pacing impatiently, turning to his older and larger brother with annoyance in his eyes "By the gods Massour, you at least agree with me, right?"

The taller warrior slowly blinked his drowsiness away and turned to his little brother "What is the point Massanor?"

"What is the poi-" His brother scoffed and shook his head "We are wasting our time here staring into the distance while there is actual work to be done. And only on the vague promises of some dumb kid priest at that! We are warriors of the Erabenimsun, not some Urshilaku soothsayers!"

"Again, what is the point?" Massour leaned his polearm on his shoulder "We are already here, the house elves already left half a day ago, and the kid sounds sure of himself."

"That is because I am certain of our path." The kneeling and meditating elf, clad in Indoril robes and uncaring for the ash sticking to them, spoke up "We need but be patient and the gods will bring us deliverance."

"Patient?!" Massanor hisses "Anderethis burns and you want me to be patient?! I may be an Ashlander but I have my pride you upjumped little-"

"They come." The priest interrupted him without a hint of fear, pure conviction lacing his every word.

Massanor grit his teeth but still gave the young one a chance, looking to the west even as the afternoon sun threatened to blind him.

And there he saw a massive caravan, and their equally large guard detail.

The trio did not move for a while longer, and they did not need to as they were noticed almost immediately by the detachment of legion cavalry who looked just about ready to go and surround them.

Standard procedure in truth but the two Ashlanders were not assured by this, not that they could do much to go against it.

Thankfully for the two Erabenimsun warriors' nerves, the cavalry force stopped moving into wings and instead reformed around the caravan, all the while opening a path between them that let a trio of figures pass in turn.

One was utterly massive, standing at over four meters tall and wearing what looked to be modified Dunmeri heavy armor and wielding a grand glaive, a strip of long purple cloth fluttering from where its pole met its blade.

Massour whistled in appreciation at the sight, the weapon was obviously a masterwork.

The second figure confused all three of the Dunmer, as they were clad in full armor of odd and unfamiliar make, obviously heavy by elven standards and a masterwork at that but bearing colors of white and gold that did not quite fit with any known band or house that could afford

such.

Massanor was forced to begrudgingly approve of them though, being the resident heavy armors expert he was one of the rare people who could truly appreciate the quality of the white-clad elf's, for it was certainly an elf, equipment.

The third figure needed no introductions, for their mere presence was enough for the scion of Indoril to know their name. The prophesized messenger of the true gods looked almost unnaturally immaculate as he approached, his eyes blazing with barely contained power.

It was just too bad for the young Indoril that said divine messenger was not about to play to

his expectations.

(Reyvin's POV)

"Now what do we have here?" I rose an eyebrow at the two Ashlanders? and one Indoril "You don't look like a band of Redoran warriors, that much is certain. I do hope Archmaster Sarano didn't send you three instead of his kin?"

The shorter Ashlander scoffs, drawing the concerned eyes of his Indoril companion "And so what if he did, devilblood?"

Well now.

I do not even need to give the command before the air behind me shifts and Akulakhan appears before the insolent little shit, Hag's Bane poised to pierce right through his helmet's eye slit

in an instant.

On a side note, the fact that the taller Ashlander actually managed to react fast enough to only stop mid-swing as what I presume was his kinsman was threatened with death was quite

praiseworthy in its own right.

"Well, well, well." I clap my hands with a dramatic slowness as I approach, Anondor following suit with sword drawn and shield ready to interpose himself in case of an attack "Some would call that kind of vitriol bold but I personally feel rather inspired by the sheer fucking idiocy of it all." I take a step and suddenly I am next to the completely still Ashlander "Tell me, little nomad too dumb to leave your dusty homeland, if I am this devilblood you mention, how is it in any way a reasonable idea to insult me?"

The Ashlander looked ready to deliver a rather scathing retort with appreciable spite in his

eyes.

The little priest had other ideas however, as he immediately rose his arms placatingly "My lord, please forgive this fool! We have been waiting for your arrival for a long while now, he is

merely distraught at the attack on our people to the south!"

'Finally, some gods damned excitement!' I grin and turn to the Indoril "Explain."

He hesitantly looks to the two Ashlanders and deciding to skip the begging I simply give

Junior a mental nudge and he blurs behind me, his weapon still tense.

"Thank you, my lord." The priest bows as the shorter Ashlander cautiously steps back

"Indoril Vayrin, at your service."n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Dagoth Reyvin, but I am sure you already knew that." I drawl lazily, some politeness was not remiss, even if rather needless in the current situation "Now you were saying something

about

attack?"

The young elf chuckles a bit awkwardly at his, no doubt caused by his noble upbringing, segue "Apologies" He bows his head "The force of the Redoran Guard was present when we arrived some seven days ago, but five days hence news reached us that the Argonians sacked the city of Anderethis and were making good time towards Kragenmoor. The Redoran left almost immediately and has us stay behind to share the news."

"Well she did say things would get fun" I mutter while pretending to ponder things "And what did the news say of the enemy numbers?"

"I doubt they were perfectly accurate but they speculated some six thousand Argonian warrior tribesmen." He shakes his head regretfully "It could be more and it could be less but I

have no way to confirm this."

"And the forces of the Redoran?" I ask "Both the detachment and garrison of Kragenmoor?"

"There were three hundred Mer under the leadership of a House Father." Vayrin explains "I have no idea of the garrison but the city is too impoverished to afford nearly enough warriors to protect it from such numbers."

"Interesting." I hum and summon Scorch with a mental nudge, the dreaded bird man flying away without a word "I suppose cutting through some Argonians would be a rather fine first

impression."

Without waiting for the Indoril's response I turn to the Ashlanders "I trust that the two of you will not be complete idiots about this?"

The shorter one goes to say something but is promptly smacked by his taller kinsman who shakes his head "Nothing at all, Sera. So long as you take us with you of course."

"That shouldn't be an issue." I nod and remain silent for a moment until the reason I summoned Scorch is made clear "Legate Furius."

"Lord Dagoth." The Leyawiin-born cavalry man greets back "Your bird mentioned new

orders?"

"Yes, it would appear Black Marsh is not quite honoring their previous peace compacts." I

inform him, we both knew there were no such compacts, it was a truce at best "And I find myself in need of your services to help my kin."

"The Emperor was clear that we were to follow your lead." The Legate does not even blink, surprising the trio of Dunmer "Just say the word and we will move out."

"Then consider my word said." I grin at him "Have the Fighter's Guild members fortify the

caravanserai as a precaution" I pause and summon a bag of gold, tossing it at the horseman "In case the proprietor proves a bother."

"I will get right on that." Furius grins and directs his steed away.

"That was..." Indoril looks genuinely baffled "Fast."

"What?" I snort "Did you expect I was just going to let the Argonians run wild?"

The shorter Ashlander actually keeps his mouth shut on his own for once. "Well, the city is one of a rival house..." The young priest states somewhat awkwardly.

I just laugh "You will find, Indoril, that such things are rarely enough to bar me from my

goals. If politics attempt to stop things from being done then they are obviously bad politics." My grin is not a pretty one "And I don't tolerate such wastes of my time." "Finally you say something worthwhile." The short Ashlander scoffs but approvingly this

time.

"Oh please stop, you are making me swoon." My voice is as dry as the Red Mountain as I look

back to the caravan "The Legate looks just about ready to move out, come on then follow me and you can inform me as to why you were here in the first place." The priest followed immediately, forcing his two companions to join him.

How very nice of the farm tools to immediately hand me a just cause, why I might even not

burn their cities to the ground in thanks...

Stone too is rather dry

just saying

...gimme!

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