PoTM: Conjuration, Lesson One

• Posted by Karver the Lorc November 28, 2017 - Filed in TSC: Mixed - #Straag Rod  #Lissette  #Karver  #Practice of Magic  #Grulmar  #Telvanni  - 1,791 views

  

  As the Hortator pondered the first lesson of ruling kings, Vivec wandered into the Mourning Hold and found that Ayem was with a pair of lovers. Seht had divided himself again. Vivec then leapt through into their likenesses to observe, but he gained no secrets that he did not already know. He left a few of his own behind to make the journey worthwhile.

   

  Then Vivec left the capital of Veloth and wandered far into the ash. He found a span of badlands to practice his giant-form. He made of his feet a less dense material than the divine to keep from falling waist-deep into the earth. At this point the First Corner of the House of Troubles, the Prince Molag Bal, made his presence known.

   

  Vivec looked on the King of Rape and said:

   

  'How very beautiful you are, that you do not join us.'

   

  And Molag Bal crushed the warrior-poet's feet, which were not invulnerable, and had legions cleave them off. Mighty fires from the Beginning Place were brought like nets to hold Vivec and he let them.

   

  'I would prefer,' he said, 'some kind of ceremony if we are to be married.'

   

  And the legions that took the feet were summoned again and ordered to begin a banquet. Pomegranates sprang from the badlands and tents were raised. A throng of Velothi mystics came, reading the passages of the severed feet on the ground and weeping until the scriptures were wet.

   

  'We must love each other briefly,' Vivec said, 'if at all. I am needed to counsel the Hortator in more important matters because the Dwemeri high priests stir up trouble. You may have my head for an hour.'

   

  Molag Bal rose up and extended six arms to show his worth. They were decorated in runes of seduction and its reverse. They were decorated in the annotated calendars of longer worlds. When he spoke, mating monsters fell out.

   

  'Where must it go?' he said.

   

  'I told you,' Vivec said, 'I am meant to be the teacher of the king of the earth. AE ALTADOON GHARTOK PADHOME.'

   

  With these magic words, the King of Rape added another: 'CHIM,' which is the secret syllable of royalty.

   

  Vivec had what he needed from the Daedroth and so married him that day. In the hour that Bal had his head, the King of Rape asked for proof of love.

   

  Vivec spoke two poems to show him such, but only the first is known.

   

  I'm not sure just how much glass it took to make your hair

  Twice as much, I am sure, as the oceans have to share

  Hell, my sweet, is a fiction written by those who tell the truth

  My mouth is skilled at lying and its alibi a tooth

   

  The sons and daughters of Vivec and Molag Bal number in the thousands. The name of the mightiest is a string of power:

   

  GULGA MOR JIL HYAET AE HOOM.

   

  The ending of the words is ALMSIVI.

  
  
  

  Grulmar rubbed his eyes as he worked with the straps, pulling them through the dragon priest mask's eyes and mouth. He yawned and shook his head, trying to shake off the tiredness. He didn’t slept much after the last dream and it left him with need to do something, to keep himself occupied. And the dragon priest mask was something that would keep him busy for some time.

   

  The door to his house opened and Talvas walked in, only to stop at the threshold, taking a look at Grulmar. “You look like shit,” the Dunmer stated as he closed the door behind him. “Rough night?”

   

  “Sort of.”

   

  “Want to talk about it?”

   

  “Tusk no,” Grulmar raised his eyebrows. “Since when are ya my carin’ nanny?” He then narrowed his eyes, his lips curling in a smirk. “Ya want somethin’, don't ya?”

   

  Talvas took a seat in the chair right next to the door, grimacing. “Maybe. But first I just have to ask: What in the Oblivion are you doing with that mask?” he pointed at Grulmar's handiwork.

   

  The Orc yawned and rubbed his eyes again. “This? Well...I'm makin’ a pauldron out of it.”

   

  “A pauldron? Out of a mask? You do realize that masks are usually worn over your face, right?”

   

  “Smartass,” Grulmar snorted and lifted the mask, the leather straps hanging out of its eyes and mouth. “Just look at that thing. Do ya see how ugly is it? I'm no pretty boy, but this thing certainly wouldn't fix that.”

   

  “Well, have you tried it? Could be an improvement.” Talvas quipped.

   

  Grulmar grimaced. “Funny. But this piece of metal has few nasty tricks up its sleeve, so I'm goin’ to wear it. Just not on my tuskin’ face.” He shook his head and made a chopping motion with his hand. “Enough ‘bout the mask. Ya said ya wanted something.”

   

  “Yeah,” Talvas scratched his neck. “Well, I was thinking-”

   

  “Mhm?”

   

  “Ha-ha. I was thinking that since I'm helping you with magic and other stuff-”

   

  “Other stuff? What other stuff?” Grulmar raised his eyebrows in amusement.

   

  “Well, like…I gave you the Recall scroll so that you wouldn’t end up in bits trying to teleport back from Raven Rock. And then also...hmm…,’ Talvas started but didn't finish, frowning. “Oh fuck it. I just need your help with one spell.”

   

  “My help?” Grulmar wondered. “There's somethin’ I know and ya don't?” It wasn't like it didn't feel good to be the one asked for help for once, but Grulmar certainly had his doubts about his own expertise.

   

  “I'm still trying to make a certain Conjuration spell work-”

   

  “I don't know shit ‘bout Conjuration, matey,” Grulmar interrupted him. Talvas knew very well Grulmar's reservations about Conjuration and generally anything associated with Daedra, so the plea for help was certainly more than suspicious.

   

  “Seriously, Grulmar, interrupt me one more time and you'll know everything about Conjuration once I send your arse to Coldharbour or somewhere,” the Dunmer growled in frustration and the Orc felt a grin crawling on his face.

   

  “Damn. That was good,” he chuckled. “Did ya prepare it before ya came here?”

   

  “Yes, I did,” Talvas sighed. “Probably shouldn't have ended with ‘or somewhere’ though.”

   

  “Yeah, took the edge of it,” Grulmar nodded. “Alright, but why do ya need precisely my help for Conjuration shit?”

   

  “Because I just can't figure it out and maybe because you knowing nothing about it, that could provide a completely different perspective,” Talvas explained and then paused with a frown. “Alright, that's a really poor explanation.”

   

  “Yeah, not buyin’ it.”

   

  “Alright, then...you think outside the box and… Fine, fine. I'm really desperate, so I’ll take anything,” Talvas murmured, rubbing his eyes. “So would you be so kind as to get up off your arse?”

   

  Grulmar chuckled and put down the mask, rising to his feet. “Since y’are askin’ so nicely…” he grinned. Talvas got up and shook his head, heading outside of the house, Grulmar following him. It could be an hour after dawn, but it was difficult to say with the sun hiding behind the heavy clouds of ash. The temperature was low and Grulmar cast a quick spell to keep the cold away from his body. “Where are we headin’?”

   

  “Just down to the well,” Talvas pointed north-east, towards the small stand of large mushrooms.

   

  “So what's the spell?”

   

  Talvas stopped and threw Grulmar a sidelong glance. “The Ash Guardian spell,” he said and then began walking again. “Yes, yes, the same one you saw me trying back when you first arrived here.”

   

  “Yeah, that's one really safe spell right there,” Grulmar pointed out sarcastically. “Any progress since then? I mean...is it still goin’ nuts the moment ya summon it?”

   

  “Yeah. No progress,” Talvas cleared his throat.

   

  “Alright. Then explain the process to me. Every detail, alright?”

   

  “Alright. So first I reach out, circumpenetrating the transpontine limen with my hyperagonal projection, that's the easy part. Then I reach into the creatia - in this case the lava in the Deadlands-”

   

  “Why the Deadlands precisely?” Grulmar asked as he ducked under a lichen hanging from one of the giant mushrooms they were passing by.

   

  “Well, since I am trying to conjure an ‘Ash’ guardian I thought that an unformed vestige pulled out from the lava would be more correspondent to form a stable body than a vestige from...let's say Azure Plasm.”

   

  “Hmm,” the Orc rubbed his goatee. Azure Plasm was a blue-like slime or water that was located in Coldharbour, Molag Bal's plane of Oblivion. “So an unformed vestige,” he murmured. “Y’are pulling a Daedroth from Oblivion before it is fully reborn. Why don't ya use one already formed?”

   

  Talvas shook his head. “Already tried that. Because the Daedroth is fully aware of itself and intelligent - even though I’ve tried scamps too - the moment I mold the ash around it, it just-”

   

  “Results in instantious retromission,” Grulmar finished. They just reached the well and Talvas turned around with raised eyebrows and a question in his eyes. “What? I can read. I know the theory,” the Orc snorted. “In theory,” he added with a shrug.

   

  “Indeed. So yes, since that didn't work out, I decided to recreate the necromantic procedure of placing a summoning sigil in an unformed vestige and plant it into ash instead of a dead body.”

   

  Grulmar blinked few times and cocked his head to the side. “Wait, wait, let's go back a little. Necromantic procedure?”

   

  “Well, yes,” Talvas shrugged. “I've seen Neloth do it, several times actually. And before you start, you big ethical fighter, is not better to use a daedric vestige to animate a long dead body then manipulate the body's soul?”

   

  “Still stinks of bullshit,” Grulmar muttered, not really comfortable with this topic. Daedra and necromancy, two things that were constantly giving him the creeps - well, the Daedra not so much lately, but bodies animated in unlife certainly wasn't on his top list of things to study. Or get anywhere close to.

   

  But Daedra… it always ended up bad, always. One couldn't mess with either them or the princes and just walk away. Something always went sideways, always. But if Talvas was using an unformed vestige… It definitely scratched several issues from Grulmar's list, because a vestige could barely remember it was summoned, so it wouldn't even remember who summoned it.

   

  Is this it? Grulmar paused for a second, wondering. Is this the first excuse before it spirals out of control? How long after this until ya start summonin’ Daedra left and right, matey? How long? He shook his head, rejecting that idea. No, never goin’ to go down that road. Value my own life too much.

   

  “Hey!” Talvas raised his voice. “Are you still with me?”

   

  Grulmar shook his head. “Sorry. Was just thinkin’. So what happens with the vestige once ya plant it in the ash?”

   

  “It takes shape, forms if you want, and then just...the vestige shatters into infinitessimals, but remains until it is destroyed,” Talvas explained.

   

  “Which is strange. No immediate retromission?” the Orc rubbed his eyes. “So it just goes crazy but is permanently bound to this place. Why does it go crazy though? I mean, when ya do the same with corpses like ya described, it works, right? Maybe ash or any other material just isn't enough to hold it together. So it means we have to find a way to stabilize it.”

   

  “No kidding, master Conjurer,” Talvas muttered sarcastically.

   

  “Want my help or no? Then show me the process.”

   

  The Dunmer now looked at Grulmar like the Orc had gone completely crazy. “You want me to show how to summon a daedroth? What happened to your principles about summoning?”

   

  “Flew out of window the moment ya came askin’ my help, moron,” Grulmar grimaced and then waved his arms. “But seriously, it's not like I'm about to summon a tuskin’ Dremora or somethin’. It's more like...a baby daedroth, right? Well, maybe a daedroth embryo. Doesn't sound so bad to me. Beside, if I'm goin’ to help ya, I need to go through the process myself. So stop shittin’ around and show me.”

   

  “I won't argue with that,” Talvas chuckled.