Practice of Telvanni Magic: Chapter 13, Reunion

  •  

     

    Mottos of the Great Dunmer Houses

    by

    Vilyn Girith

     

    To my son, whose inability to remember even these simple facts embarrasses our family at every opportunity. This is to inform you of the words the great houses of Vvardenfell live and breathe by, and the saints they hold as their patrons, representative of their goals and motives. If you ever again confuse the Hlaalu and Dres merchant nobles with whom we trade, I will disown you three and ten times, and once again to make the deed final and eternal.

     

    House Redoran: "A Redoran is a warrior whose duty is first to the Tribunal, second to House Redoran, and third to family and clan."

    - Saint Nerevar the Captain is the patron saint of House Redoran.

     

    House Indoril: "Justice knows no sleep: Indoril shall order, the Temple shall judge."

    - Saint Olms the Just is the patron saint of House Indoril.

     

    House Hlaalu: "To trade fairly and freely is to honor the Three."

    - Saint Veloth the Pilgrim is the patron saint of House Hlaalu.

     

    House Dres: "To spread culture and truth to the benighted: this is our commitment and burden."

    - Saint Llothis the Pious is the patron saint of House Dres.

     

    House Telvanni: "The forceful expression of will gives true honor to the Ancestors."

    - Saint Vorys the Immolant is the patron saint of House Telvanni.

     

    You will likely not note the lack of an ascribed motto to the sixth house, the shadow house, house Dagoth. This is because that house is extinct, destroyed at the Battle of Red Mountain, after which the remaining Houses built the Temple to the Tribunal. If you ever mention this house in polite company, I will disown you.

     

    You will note that twice, now, I have threatened to disown you. This is because my hands are not so black as Mephala's or Lord Vivec's. My heart is too weak to simply remove you from my family.

     

    Keep this text on you at all times, and let it shame you for every reference you make to it in your dealings with our nobility. Spare our lineage the greater shame of your own foolishness. May I never have cause to call you s'wit in public again.

     

    3rd of Evening Star, 4E 203

     

    “Grandfather?” Talvas asked with a sudden hoarseness as the surprise literally grabbed him by his throat and squeezed as hard as it could. It was like he couldn't breath, becoming the small boy standing in front of his grandfather again, feeling so small in comparison to the titan he was. All the lectures and lessons… For a second, just for the one second he completely forgot about Varona, about Telvanni and the whole island. All that mattered was the stare of red eyes and his desire not to see disappointment in them.

     

    But then he remembered himself, his eyes finding Varona on the ground and immediately he sprinted towards her. He leaned his head against her and then he sighed in relief. “She's alive. She's breathing.” The anxiety suddenly dropped off him and he felt weakness spreading through his body, his hands shaking as the adrenaline wore off and his body was slowly falling into the after-shock. There were no wounds, beside a small purple dot on her forehead with a thin stream of blood. Must have hit her head. He extended his arm towards it, channeling the magicka through his body and began cleaning the wound with restorative magic, also checking if her skull and brain were intact. When he was done, he made sure she remained asleep.

     

    “And that'sh good?” Venhen Ules asked with raised eyebrows as he hobbled towards Talvas. “We found her running from the Ash Shpawn. Sho…” he looked at the young Dunmer female standing next to him. “I jusht forgot your name, dear. Hmm, doeshn't matter. Sho my grand-nieshe immediately ran to shave her. How recklessh of her, am I right? Do you remember her? She should be your coushin if I'm not mishtaken.”

     

    “Neriila, urman,” she reminded him.

     

    “Ah, yesh. Neriila. Do you remember Neriila?” Venhen smiled at Talvas who just threw him a look, his mind slowly realising what was happening. It was no coincidence that his grandfather was here. Not only on Solstheim, but specifically at this spot.

     

    “I'm not going back,” he muttered, putting his hands under Varona and getting on his feet with her in his open arms.

     

    “That'sh how you greet your ruhmber, boy?” Venhen chuckled and Talvas felt the undercurrent of irritation in his tone. It almost made him stop and apologize to the old mer, but he reminded himself that he wasn't a young boy anymore. He raised his chin up and turned away from the two Dunmer.

     

    “Yes, it is,” he answered with spite in his voice. “Especially when that family is you. I don't want to have anything to do with you.”

     

    “Ish that sho?” old mer laughed out loud which sounded more like the croaking of a raven mocking a dying man before it plucks his eyes out. “Blood ish thicker than water, velk. I've raished you, I've fed you-”

     

    Talvas upper lip curled in disgust and anger and he whirled around, frowning at his grandfather. “You did only so you could sell me as a breeding guar!” he snarled.

     

    “You have responsibilities to your ouraan,” Neriila growled back. Neriila, a cousin he had never heard of or just didn't remember. She was younger than him and the way he saw it, she was completely under his grandfather's control. He was very good at that, controlling his own children to do what he wanted no matter what it was. All in the name of their legacy. His legacy.

     

    “No, I don't,” he murmured, looking her in the eyes only because he wasn't able to look into his grandfather's. He never could and no matter how much he wanted to do that now, he just couldn't. There was something deep within him that was still afraid of the prospect at looking him straight in the eye. “I am Talvas Fathryon of House Telvanni now. I am no longer part of your legacy.”

     

    “Telvanni?” Venhen raised his eyebrows and then chuckled. “Unbelievable. When I wanted you to marry a girl from Houshe Telvanni you ran away, not even conshidering how much effort and money it cosht me to arrange it. And now you are member of Telvanni. Can you shee that irony, my nieshe?”

     

    “But it was my own choice!” Talvas shouted at the old mer. “Out of my own free will! Fuck the irony!”

     

    He saw how those words made the old mer angry, how he frowned and his healthy hand clutched the walking stick so hard his joints loudly cracked. Talvas almost expected he would lay the stick on him, but Talvas wasn't a young boy anymore, he reminded himself one more time. Then suddenly, the anger on Venhen's face disappeared like clouds after a storm, and a smile spread across his face.

     

    “Very well,” Venhen raised his hand in a gesture of yielding. “You're an adult, and I won't forshe you into shomething you don't want to do. I shpent sheveral yearsh looking for you, jusht to make shure you are well, and I am glad to shee that you are.” Talvas raised his eyebrows at that, but didn't say anything. “Telvanni apprentishe. I am proud of you, and happy for you.”

     

    “Thank you,” the Telvanni apprentice muttered, still frowning though. He wasn't really sure what to think about that sudden change. His grandfather was known for his flickering moods which made him so unpredictable and since he was nearing his third century, it was quite possible he was going senile. Talvas hadn’t seen him in nearly fifty years, but from what he remembered… Venhen Ules always had some agenda. Nothing he ever did was without a a reason, which made Talvas narrow his eyes when Venhen continued.

     

    “Maybe you could introdushe me to your mashter, eh? Neloth wash it? I remember him. Mage-lord of Tel Naga, right? I wouldn't mind sharing a dinner with him.”

     

    “We don't have a dinner to share, urman,” Neriila said and the old mer raised his eyebrows.

     

    “Really? That'sh unfortunate. Then he could share it with ush then, hmm?”

     

    Talvas shook his head. “No, absolutely no.”

     

    “Don't be shuch a party crasher, velk,” Venhen frowned. “Beside, it'sh shlowly getting late. Will you leave your own ruhmber here after dark? With banditsh and rapersh?”

     

    “Rapers?” Talvas repeated.

     

    “Yesh. Alsho, we shaved her life,” he pointed at Varona.

     

    “I saved her life,” Neriila pointed out.

     

    “And what did I jusht shay? Anyway, dinner ish the leasht thing you could do for ush, hm?”

     

    Talvas sighed and if he wasn't holding Varona he would have rubbed his eyes in annoyance. He didn't want to owe his grandfather anything, so if a dinner was what he wanted, then dinner he would get. “Alright, dinner. But you'll be gone in the morning and we're even. Clear?”

     

    “Clear ash Dagoth Ur'sh shmoke,” Venhen solemnly nodded and Talvas only frowned at that.

     

    Your grandfather, cousin, Neloth, Grulmar and Mahti at one place….this can't end well.

    It was slowly getting late as they were nearing Tel Mithryn and Talvas felt the tiredness washing over him. Thankfully, Varona already woke up from her state and while she was confused, she was otherwise alright. He wanted to tell her how foolish she was among other things, but he bit his tongue and remained silent in the walk home. He didn't want to give his grandfather the satisfaction of revealing more, giving him more clues the old mer could later use to manipulate him.

     

    He was throwing sideway glances at Neriila, his cousin, as they walked, every time feeling a frown claw into his face. She seemed to sense his every glance, looking up with her empty eyes, forcing him to avert his gaze. If she's who you think she is...like all daughters… Just, ehm, whatever you do, Talvas, don't make her angry.

     

    Venhen Ules was hobbling behind him, supported by Neriila and all the while, he was sporting a giant smirk on his face. Talvas could almost picture the Dwemer gears in his head spinning, looking for an angle. He always did that, always thought about how to control other people, that's all his grandfather could do.

     

    Talvas released a sigh which got Varona's attention. She was leaning against him because her walk was somewhat unsteady, probably because of the blow to her head. “Are you alright?” she whispered and he shrugged, shaking his head. He was trying to tell her to let it go for now, but she tensed her body, misunderstanding it as no. “What's going on?” she pressed and Talvas threw a look behind him, at his unwanted family.

     

    “Later,” he whispered out of the corner of his mouth, which made her give him a concerned look. They were nearing Tel Mithryn by then, just passing around Sun Stone with its suspicious individuals slaving away and Venhen Ules chuckled.

     

    “Telvanni’s n’wah?”

     

    Talvas shook his head. “No. More like slaves of something else.” Then the image of his grandfather falling under the influence of the same spell as everyone else flashed before his mind and now it was his turn to chuckle. “You'll see.”

     

    “I've seen the same type of stone in Raven Rock,” Neriila murmured. “People worked on it too, as if they were under some sort of spell, just like these-”

     

    “Shush, velk,” Venhen silenced her. “If shomeone wantsh to work on theshe shtones then let them. Let'sh not talk about it, it might ruin my appetite.” He then hung his head and sighed. “Poor shoulsh.”

     

    “As if you really cared,” Talvas gritted his teeth, shaking his head at Venhen's played empathy. Everything with him was just a pretense, always.

     

    When they got to the first building of Tel Mithryn, Grulmar stepped out of the door, frowning as he took stock of the newcomers. His eyes eventually rested on Varona. “So I see she's quite alright, matey,” he sneered, looking at Talvas. “Are ya goin’ to keep screamin' at me that it's all my fault? 'Cause I think it actually didn't end up so bad.”

     

    “Another Orsimer s’wit!” Talvas' grandfather snapped, making Talvas smile a little. He knew very well how Orcs could get under Venhen's skin, how much the old mer hated them, and every time they were around, his facade slowly crumbled like a millenia old wall, revealing the ugly truth that was real Venhen Ules behind it.

     

    And in the short time Talvas came to know Grulmar he knew that the Orc wouldn’t take shit from anyone. So when the Orc raised his eyebrows and smirked, it wasn't any surprise to Talvas, neither were the words that came out of Grulmar's mouth. “Oh, yeah. Sure. Nice to meet ya too, ugly grey shit bag of bones.” He then looked at Talvas. “Who the tusk is the skeleton? You bringing draugr over?”

     

    “My grandfather,” Talvas said drily and Grulmar's eyes darted between him and the Venhen few times before settling back on Talvas. And here comes a sarcastic line.

     

    “My condolences,” Grulmar grinned slyly, flashing those tusks on purpose, knowing they were making the old mer bristle.

     

    “Doesh it really have to be here, Talvash? Thish...n’wah beasht?” Venhen barked and Talvas sighed. So much for a good beginning.

     

    On cue, Mahti arrived, running towards Grulmar, nearly tripping over himself in the process, and then the Riekling noticed the visitors. His strong brows furrowed and his features contorted from excitement to caution. He threw a nervous glance at Grulmar and the Orc smirked, making Talvas brace himself. “Visitors, Mahti. Don't be shy, go greet them. Especially that old bugger.”

     

    “Greeeeeet!” the Riekling cheered, running towards Venhen, who began cursing, swinging his walking stick at the Riekling. But it was all in vain, because Mahti was about to mark his territory. He lifted his loincloth and pissed all over the old mer's boots while being hit in the head with the walking stick.

     

    “Yes!” Grulmar roared in laughter, holding his stomach. “Tuskin' way to go, matey! Give 'im everythin' ya got!”

     

    “Reeeeeeeeeethiiiiiiiing!”

     

    Talvas heard a loud slap and looked at Varona, who had just hit her forehead with an open palm. Any other time, he would have probably shared her feelings, but now… He was having way too much fun seeing his grandfather, the famous and infamous urman of House Ules, Venhen Ules of Cammona Tong, getting his boots pissed on by a Riekling. Welcome to Solstheim, grandfather.

     

    “Fucking creature! Why do you jusht shtand here, velk?!” Venhen shouted at his niece. “Jusht fucking kill it! It ruined my bootsh!” Neriila moved, a dagger appearing out of nowhere in her hand and she took a step towards Mahti. He immediately recognized the danger and darted away, making a huge circle around Talvas and then hid behind Grulmar's leg.

     

    “Ya can tuskin' try,” the Orc snarled, a throwing knife appearing in his hand as suddenly as it appeared in Neriila's. “Come on, I dare ya.” The Dunmer and Orc locked their gazes, measuring each other up, and Talvas had to quickly step in if everyone here was going to live through another day.

     

    “Alright, alright, I think that's enough,” he raised his arms, getting everyone's attention. “Grulmar, would you please tell Ulves we'll have guests for dinner tonight?”

     

    “Do I look like yer servant?” the Orc growled, not really making it any easier for Talvas.

     

    “I said please,” Talvas murmured, only for his lips to then form a sneer.  “Or would you rather inform Master Neloth?”

     

    Grulmar's face changed expression several times in rapid succession and then he spat on the ground, heading towards the kitchen. “Tuskin' shit of an evenin'. Is this all worth it? Gettin' insulted and blamed for every tuskin' shit fallin' from the sky? No it is not, matey, not tuskin' worth it,” he grumbled. “Come on, Mahti. Follow. Yeah, that's a good boy. We'll go tell the worst cook in the world to cook some shit and poison it, yeah?” His words eventually were lost to the distance and Talvas gave his grandfather a look.

     

    “I'll tell the Master of the tower we have visitors then,” he smiled. “So if you'd be so kind to wait here, without actually killing anyone,” he continued, murmuring before turning to Varona.  “And you will go see Elynea, alright?”

     

    She nodded and Talvas sighed. Couldn't go any worse, I suppose.

    A large table was brought into the Tel Mithryn kitchen, with chairs and everything, and both Varona and Ulves set it up for dinner, though Ulves interrupted his work frequently to check on his various cooking pots. The air was filled with delicious aromas and Talvas suspected that Ulves was making his speciality which made the apprentice nearly drool with anticipation at the explosion of flavours in his mouth that was about to come. If he could only get the taste of ash from his mouth every time he looked at his grandfather.

     

    Venhen Ules was seated at the foot of the table, closer to the door, with his niece at his left and Talvas to his right. Grulmar was sitting next to Talvas and Elynea was sitting opposite the Orc, next to Neriila. Neloth was at the head of the table, frowning at the old Dunmer sitting on the other side.  

     

    Talvas wasn't sure if he was supposed to sit closer to Neloth or Venhen, because the former was his Master and teacher who adopted him into House Telvanni, while the latter was his blood and real family. In the end, his caution won over, because he wasn't really prepared to have Grulmar sit so close to Venhen and Neriila. The chances were that they could and would kill each other with the cutlery that was being set on the table.

     

    Varona began by pouring Neloth's glass with Shein while Ulves poured Venhen's glass, then they went on serving the others at the table. As soon as Grulmar had his glass filled, he downed in one big gulp, which earned him frowns from both Elynea and Neriila, but the elders completely ignored it. Neloth and Venhen were locked in a battle of stares, waiting to see who would blink or avert their gaze first. If Talvas was one for betting, he would put his money on Neloth to win the staring contest, because it was really difficult to say if the Telvanni wasn't actually sleeping with his eyes open.

     

    No one spoke a word yet and the air was literally heavy with the awkward silence. Until Grulmar interrupted it by picking at his teeth with a silver knife and the whimpering from under the table that had to be Mahti, most likely thinking he's a dog or nix hound. Talvas heard Neriila click her tongue in disgust which got Grulmar's attention and he sneered, now knowing it was annoying her. So he renewed his attempts at getting whatever it was in his teeth out with the silver knife. Talvas only hoped the Orc wouldn’t cut his tongue or lip, because having blood sprayed all over the dinner table before the dinner even began wouldn't be very pleasant.

     

    Neloth then hit the table with his fist, his gaze still locked with Venhen's. “What's taking so long with dinner? I am hungry!” If he wasn’t awake before, he was certainly awake now.

     

    “Kena Neloth,” Venhen said with a calm voice. “You shouldn't rush the cook, otherwishe the food won't be shatishfactory.”

     

    “It is my cook.” The Telvanni retorted, his upper lip twitching to form a disgusted curl. “I can rush him as much as I want,” The eyes then narrowed and the next words were dripping with polite acid.  “But thank you for your input, Sedura urman Venhen.”

     

    “You are welcome,” Venhen bowed his head. Neloth smirked, no doubt thinking he had finally made the old mer avert his gaze.

     

    Ulves suddenly coughed and Talvas thanked the Reclamations for that. This first exchange was quite harmless, but it could always go far worse later. Both elders were old and prideful mer, both little bit insane in their own ways, so Talvas had a good reason to pray to Reclamations tonight. And most of his mental prayers consisted of begging the gods to not turn this dinner into a blood bath. Why have you agreed to this in the first place, again?

     

    “First course will be a Scrib jelly soup,” he announced, eyeing Master Neloth expectantly. “Do I have your permission to serve, serjo?”

     

    The Telvanni measured him with annoyance. “Of course you have my bloody permission,” he barked. “I'm starving! Get on with it!”

     

    Ulves bowed. “As you wish, serjo.” He motioned to Varona and they began serving the soup into bowls, setting them first in front of Neloth, then Venhen and then everyone else. Talvas grabbed a silver spoon and began picking the jelly from the soup, putting it into his mouth.

     

    Venhen smelled the soup and his eyes rolled in pleasure. “The shmell ish amazing,” he gushed, putting a piece of the jelly into his mouth andreleasing a delightful sigh. “My complimentsh to-”

     

    His compliment was cut short by a loud slurping and everyone turned to Grulmar, who just took the bowl with soup with his hands and drank directly from it. The soup luckily wasn't so hot, so the Orc didn't get burned but he certainly had everyone's attention.

     

    “Would you stop it?!” Neloth hissed. He then frowned at the Orc, as if he had tasted something unpleasant. “Actually, who invited you?”

     

    Grulmar put the bowl down, leaving pieces of scrib jelly in his goatee and wiped his mouth, looking at Neloth with a measure of uncertainty. “I did?”

     

    Neloth's frowned became much more prominent and he narrowed his eyes in accusation. “And who are you anyway?” He demanded.

     

    Talvas felt the blood draining from his face as he expected the Orc to explode with anger. So, he coughed, diverting Neloth’s attention from the Orc. “Your apprentice, serjo.”

     

    “Ah, right,” Neloth nodded, but still eyed Grulmar suspiciously, as if he wasn't really sure about the validity of Talvas' statement. Talvas got Grulmar's attention and subtly pointed at the spoon in his hand with his eyes and then at a spoon next to the Orc's bowl. The green-skin frowned and then shrugged, taking the spoon and eating the soup with it. But honestly, it wasn't much better than the previous slurping, but Talvas suspected the Orc couldn't help it, with most of his lower teeth jutting out because of the tusks pushing down his lower lip. Orcs just aren't meant for cutlery…

     

    “If I may ashk, Kena Neloth,” Venhen raised his voice after swallowing the last drop of the soup, “what made you acshept an Orsimer ash your apprentishe?”

     

    “Probably won't be because of his charm,” Elynea murmured from the other side of the table,  masking it under a cough, which earned her an angry look from Grulmar. We forget that Orc hearing is just as good as Dunmer hearing. The Orc was about to open his mouth to answer, but Neloth spoke first.

     

    “I have never had an Orc apprentice before,” the Telvanni said, meeting Vehnen’s eyes.  “There is a first time for everything, correct?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Besides, Orcs are said to be creatures of limited intelligence, so he's additionally, an adequate subject for my experiments.”

     

    Talvas nearly spat his soup out and the muscles under Grulmar’s left eye twitched. The Orc was about to explode and Talvas resolutely shook his head at him, trying to scream with his eyes: Let it go! The Orc's hand stopped half way towards the silver knife on the table and suppressed anger was written all over his face.

     

    “But enough about me,” Neloth waved his hand in dismissal. “Why have you come here, Sedura Venhen? Tired of the marvels of Blacklight already?”

     

    “Pleashe,” Venhen chuckled. “Who wouldn't get tired of a Redoran shity? No, I came here for my grandshon,” he pointed at Talvas who frowned. “But I had no idea he wash already a h’lag of a different ouraan. Great Houshe Telvanni.” He stopped for a second when Grulmar stuffed the bowl, still with some soup in it, under the table where suddenly more slurping sounds came from. Talvas wanted to put his palm to his face, but he couldn’t, his grandfather was still speaking and he didn’t know where to put his eyes. His grandfather or the Orc. His eyes found Vehnen. “Or ish it shtill Great Houshe I wonder,” Venhen continued with smirk on his face and Talvas secretly wanted to join Mahtii under the table. “After all, you Telvanni don't have much beshide Port Telvannish and Port Velothi to the easht. Literally at the end of the world. We are not sho different after all, Telvanni and Hlaalu.”

     

    Neloth narrowed his eyes and even Talvas was taken back by the obvious insult his grandfather threw at the Telvanni Magister. Venhen was usually trying to sweet-talk everyone first, pretending he is just an old senile mer, but that play didn't even appear since dinner started. What is your new angle, grandfather?

     

    “Is that so?” Master Neloth questioned and Talvas could hear the snideness to his tone. “You say it as if I give a damn about other Magisters. They mean nothing to me. I have my own holdings, as you do, Sedura Venhen.” He gave Vehnen a once over like he was eyeing a spot found on his robes. "I have heard that being a Cammona Tong's lapdog is quite profitous.” The Telvanni then snorted and vile grin appeared on his face. “As is climbing into other Houses' assholes if I'm not mistaken.”

     

    Venhen's face lit up with a cheerful grin at the insult, but Neriila stiffened, her chair's legs screeching on the floor as she began pushing herself away from the table. Venhen's gnarled hand grabbed her forearm, stopping her from whatever she was about to do and she reluctantly pulled her chair to the table again. Neloth watched the entire episode with an amused look and was about to say more when Ulves coughed again.

     

    “Second course is ready, serjo. I've prepared Kwama eggs omelette,” he announced proudly while taking away the bowls and refilling Grulmar’s glass,  “and if I may, I would recommend a glass of Greef to wash it down. But if you'd prefer-”

     

    “Just bring the food, you fool,” Neloth commanded with a frown. “And we will stay at Shein.”

     

    As Varona and Ulves began serving the food, Talvas wondered why Neloth wanted to stay at Shein. After all, the Magister preferred the more expensive and rare Sujamma or Greef over Shein any day. And then Talvas looked at his grandfather and understood. Neloth doesn't want to share with the old mer.

     

    “Ya said you came for yer grandson,” Grulmar said, looking at Venhen, who for a second looked back at the Orc and then looked away, making sure the Orc understood that he wasn't worth his time. But Grulmar was either completely oblivious to that or he just didn't give a damn. “But why? And will ya take him away with ya then?”

     

    Venhen Ules frowned, not really capable of ignoring that question and looked at Talvas. “I came for my grandshon becaushe he'sh the eldesht now,” he answered and Talvas felt his eyebrows go up in surprise. Eldest? What? “All your brothersh passhed away, my boy. Sho, you would be an heir to Houshe Ulesh holdingsh and capital if you weren't adopted by the Telvanni.”

     

    Talvas shook his head disbelief. All his brothers were dead. He could only imagine how, but he suspected it had something to do with grandfather's business with the Cammona Tong. Smuggling, thieving and assassinations weren't exactly safe professions. “But what about my father? And his brothers?” he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

     

    Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Grulmar picking in his food, looking at the brown matter with a frown. Eventually, he just stuffed the plate under the table when no one was looking. At least when he thought no one was looking.

     

    “Your father ish well, and will be, if Reclamationsh will wish it. And when I die, he will be the urman of Houshe Ulesh,” Venhen explained. “But if he diesh? If he doesn’t have a direct desshendant, my shonsh will fight with themshelvesh over control of the Houshe.” He then waved his hand as if he was chasing away a mosquito and smiled. “But that ish no longer your conshern, am I right? You're a Telvanni now. Nothing can be done about that.”

     

    “The Magister that adopted him into the house would have to expel him from the House so he could reclaim his heritage,” Elynea said and everyone looked at her, which made her bow her head, focusing on her meal again.

     

    “Third course is ready,” Ulves coughed, getting their attention. “I have prepared oysters with Kwama cuttle sauce, if you wish.”

     

    Neloth stuffed his mouth with a final bite of omelette and murmured something with his mouth full, which Ulves took as a permission to serve another course.

     

    “I already told you,” Talvas muttered towards his grandfather. “I won't go back. And this doesn't change it at all. I don't want any heritage, I don't want to have anything to do with your legacy and all that.”

     

    Venhen raised his hands and leaned back. “I know, I know, and I acshept that. You are Telvanni now. Let'sh jusht enjoy the dinner and we'll shay our goodbyesh tomorrow, hmm?”

     

    Talvas took one of the oysters from his plate and then began cutting it with silver knife. When he cut the soft meat and the shell opened only by a little he took special scissors resting on the table to pry it open.

     

    He looked at Grulmar who was literally going through an epic battle with his oyster, trying to open it with his knife, nearly cutting his fingers off in the process. He then put it into his mouth, trying to open it with his tusks but that didn't work either. “What the tusk is this shit?” the Orc growled softly to himself and looked around at everybody else eating their oysters. “Does anyone have a crowbar?” The question was answered with an awkward silence and the Orc frowned, his tongue touching the tip of his tusk. “Tusk that!” he growled, putting the shell on the table and hitting it with his fist. The slippery shell slid under his fist, shooting forward quickly, landing at Elynea's place, making made her jump in fright. “Sorry?” the Orc offered, receiving only scornful looks from the others.

    Surprisingly, the rest of the dinner continued in silence and the cook began washing the dishes. Venhen and Neriila were given beds in the steward's house and Venhen fell asleep the moment his head touched his pillow, as if his mind wasn't weighed down by the troubles with his grandson and what was said at the dinner.

     

    He woke up fresh in the morning and when he and Talvas said goodbye to each other, the boy murmuring something about hoping he wouldn’t see him ever again, which didn't bother Venhen at all. He knew the truth behind the boy's actions. After all, Talvas was his blood, and he was taking after his father and grandfather more than he wanted to admit.

     

    So when he and Neriila were at a considerable distance from Tel Mithryn, they looked back and his niece clearly couldn't hold it any longer when she asked: “So what are we going to do? Leave? Just like that?”

     

    Venhen smiled, shaking his head. Bless the little velk. “No, my dear, we will not leave any time shoon.”

     

    “But he completely disrespects our legacy. Our duty! He's a Telvanni!” she literally spat the last word out and Venhen looked at her with raised eyebrows.

     

    “Now, now. Do not worry about it.” He reassured. “When the time comesh, he will come to ush.” He grinned at her when he rolled the next words in his mind, liking how they would sound. “I will make sure of it.” She furrowed her brow like he was crazy, but but he wasn't ready to tell her plan. Everything had its appropriate time. “Now, there'sh shertain bushinessh we have to attend to, remember? Our friendsh at the shipwreck should be quite happy right now.”

     

     

     

Comments

7 Comments   |   A-Pocky-Hah! and 10 others like this.
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  February 18, 2018
    That was quite hilarious dinner party. :)
  • Sotek
    Sotek   ·  July 2, 2017
    “Greeeeeet!” the Riekling cheered     :D  What he did after though....... 
    So that's why there are extra knifes with table side meals... You have a spare knife to stab your opponents with during 'polite conversation'. Always won...  more
  • Paws
    Paws   ·  June 20, 2017
    Orc table manners being the highlight by a large tusk :D
  • The Long-Chapper
    The Long-Chapper   ·  June 11, 2017
    Hehe, love this chapter, loved editing it. :D
  • The Sunflower Manual
    The Sunflower Manual   ·  June 11, 2017
    Aha, the family dinner I've been hearing about. Was looking forward to this, and you did not disappoint, Karver-jo. The power play was subtle, but still there.
  • Teineeva
    Teineeva   ·  June 11, 2017
    I like to think Grul trained Mahtii to piss on anyone he should "greet". Also that could have gone worse Talvas, what the hell are you going on about? XD


    Grul was priceless during the dinner, great job karve!
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  June 11, 2017
    Glad someone decided not to kill Varona.
    'Your grandfather, cousin, Neloth, Grulmar and Mahti at one place….this can't end well.'  Can't end well indeed. I was picturing one of those awkward family dinners when I read that line. I'm still to...  more