“I've heard of you,” said the old vagabond, very impressed. “Aren't you the adventurer who slew all those ash vampires in Ghostgate a couple of months back?”
“That I am,” said Oristian Silverthorn with a weary smile for his admirer. He knew that his name was not yet legendary, and it was best to be polite. “And you are?”
“My name would have no meaning to you, but I'm Erer Darothil,” he said, raising a glass of greef. “I hail from the region of Ghostgate which is how I heard your name. Are you on an adventure as we speak?”
“Yes,” said Silverthorn, with a grim expression. “I'm challenged to rid The Grazelands of a rogue battlemage by the name of Egroamaro.”
“I've heard of him as well,” said Darothil. “He is said to be very powerful, an implacable foe.”
“That is why I'm drinking now,” sighed Silverthorn. “So tell me, what is your profession?”
“I do nothing,” said Darothil with some measure of pride. “But in my youth, I used to teach the skills of Illusion at the University of Gwylim.”
“Perhaps you can help me then,” said Silverthorn, suddenly excited. “Can you teach the spell Silence? I can certainly pay you.”
“I know that spell,” said Darothil. “You might find Invisibility very helpful as well, or perhaps Darkness which would allow you to sneak up on old Egroamaro.”
“No,” said Silverthorn firmly. “I only have time to learn one spell. I have to kill Egroamaro, collect the award, and be back in Gnisis as quickly as possible. My wife worries when I'm away.”
Tuskin' wives, Grulmar cursed in his mind. It brought back memories of Largashbur, when he was just a little runt. Garakh, even the old hag Atub and...Ghorurz. Especially Ghorurz. She was tough, but in the end, she changed. He saw that every time she looked at him, something in her changed. She was one of the reasons he wasn't able to forgive Yamarz. He sighed and continued reading. He was quite interested in that silence spell.
Darothil agreed and, as the two settled back in their seats at the cornerclub and tossed back glasses of greef, the old man shared his knowledge of the spell. He explained what it truly meant to bend sound, creating a cone of silence as glass can bend light. He had Silverthorn close his eyes while he tapped the side of his glass, making him picture the sound as the physical entity it was, before it was extinguished.
The adventurer, after a few hours of instruction, paid the old teacher and set off on his way. Indoranyon, Egroamaro's stronghold, was not far from Sadrith Mora, and he soon saw the blight and ruin that was the battlemage's calling card. Delving into the depths of the ruins, Silverthorn was set upon by the servitors of Egroamaro, living and undead. With his enchanted ebony blade, he cut through legions before facing the master himself in the desolate main hall.
Egroamaro bowed to his adversary sardonically, and then prepared to unleash a fireball to incinerate him. Before he had uttered the first word of the spell, he suddenly found that all the creaking and sighing of the ruins around him had been stilled. He opened his voice to speak, but there was no sound. Silverthorn took his time, strolling across the length of the hall, before dispatching the battlemage with one stroke of his blade.
The adventurer rushed back to the Tribunal Temple where he had received his quest, accepted the gold and the thanks, and was back in his house in Gnisis but a few days later. His wife Liah was beside herself with worry.
“All I could do night after night is toss and turn. I kept imagining you burned to ashes by that battlemage, and where would that leave me? Do we have enough gold that I could support myself if you, Saint Seryn let it not be so, were killed during one of these jaunts? I don't think so. Why couldn't you get a nice position at the Fighters Guild right here in town? I hear they're looking for a trainer for the Imperial Guard. I know, I know, you want a life of adventure and danger and freedom, but if you'd only take one moment to think of me, stuck here all by myself, worrying about you. I suppose you'd like it if I took more of an interest in your work, but it's like I was telling Ser Calissiah Vignum the other day, I said Calissah, what good is a husband--”
Liah continued to talk, deaf to the fact that her words were dead before they left her mouth. Silverthorn smiled and nodded his head, enjoying the silence. He could have killed Egroamaro without the spell, he considered, but he could not have survived his wife.
“Hahahahaha!” Grulmar erupted in laughter and J'zargo shot him a surprised look from a bed he was lying on. They had free afternoon, no lessons or chores, and there was no clearer proof of the differences between these two students. The Khajiit was literally like a cat. He was playing with his food, then he ate t it and then he took a nap. Grulmar on the other hand was doing some physical exercises, then grabbed a book and practiced spells during reading.
Which was the reason why J'zargo woke up, startled. It wasn't the laughter, it was the silver platter that was levitating in the air, held by Grulmar's will while he was reading. The same platter that loudly rang on the ground when Grulmar started laughing, losing his concentration and control over the spell, dropping the platter.
“J'zargo is trying to take a nap!” the Khajiit hissed in anger and Grulmar just waved his hand.
I could really use that Silence spell right now. “Scorch is going to be fat,” he replied after few seconds. “Just keep doin' what ya were doin' up until now.”
Silence. I wonder why it prevented the mage from castin’ spells. Well, because the Silence in the book is tied to the sound, or the lack of it, and the mage had to rely on castin’ spells with words. Regional thin’ maybe?
But would it possible to silence a mage who’s not usin’ words? Like...convince him he can’t cast or that his magicka was drained?
J'zargo turned his back to Grulmar, curling up in his bed and Grulmar expected he would start purring. Any second. “If you wake J'zargo one more time, you'll become his test subject for revolutionary flame cloak spells.”
Grulmar frowned and then sighed. “And we both know how revolutionary they really are,” he murmured and raised from his chair. He left the room and leaned against the magicka well in the middle of the hall with his hands. He heard the humming it was making, he felt the tingling on his fingertips when he was near to it. But it was the humming, almost like some kind of song, that was getting to his nerves.
He had several other lessons with Drevis who - although a pain in the arse to work with - admitted that Grulmar had a talent for the School of Illusion. And Grulmar would agree with him, if he really believed it was the truth. Yes, he was good with mind tricks, but the “real” illusions were still a problem for him. He learned how to muffle the sounds of his steps and body, but he wasn't able to bend the light, not matter how hard he tried. It was frustrating, because changing reality through Alteration wasn't that difficult for him, but fooling the perception of reality...it was tough.
He didn't know what was going with him, because he was making a progress in his studies, he was becoming better with Illusion and Alteration every day, yet he felt...restless. Like if he was sitting on a chair made of spikes and each move reminded him how stupid he was for sitting on it. It's been very long time since he got...stranded on one place for so long. The walls and whole College felt like if they were trying to suffocate him and he had an urge to pack his things and get out. Just to...move somewhere else. But he couldn't, because there was so much he could learn. He wanted to learn. Needed to learn.
He sighed again and scratched his neck. Damn hummin'. He spread out his arms and his mind left his body, plunging into the streams, searching. He haven't felt it, he heard it, and he followed the sound. The humming…
The stream was like a raging river creating a deafening noise. His hands wandered towards the stream, tempted to plunge into it, but that's not what he wanted to do. He didn't want to create more noise. He wanted to quiet it down. He learned that there were few ways how to do that. He could create a barrier around certain area, that would block any noise coming out. Or he could block the sound inside the barrier. Another way was to block the source of the noise. And it worked the same way with creating noise.
But he wasn't able to do that yet, not on a big scale. He was able to fool the reality's perception of him, sounds he was making, but something like the well in front of him...that was something he wasn't able to do. Yet. Practice makes a master, right?
He studied the sound, the humming, the raging of the stream, and slowly began adding filters. Each sounds had its specific taste, specific color, and each required its own filter. He was stacking the filters around the stream, blocking the humming, and his hands were slowly creating a barrier over the well.
And the humming was getting weaker. Just a little bit more-
“What are you up to?” a voice interrupted him and he lost the concentration, the barrier bursting like soap bubble and the humming assailed his ears - and nerves - again. He turned around and saw Brelyna standing few steps behind him.
A growl escaped his lips and he turned his attention back to the well, looking into the concentrated magicka in it. “Go bother someone else, Mess.”
“Uh-uh,” she said and then chuckled. “You have any idea how it hurts when your eyes get burned by that light?”
“I actually do,” Grulmar snorted. “Did it to myself too.”
“I'm thinking about going to Arch-Mage,” Brelyna said with malicious tone in her voice. “Maybe I could tell him you are polluting the pools of Magicka here. Or maybe conducting some dangerous ritual that threatens to move this College to Oblivion.”
Grulmar clenched his fists and turned around, baring his tusks at Brelyna. “Ya do that, Mess,” he growled with anger, “and there might come a time when an accident happens. Ya slip on the bridge outside and fall to yer death. And nobody will be able to save ya.”
She just smiled at him and turned around. “And now I can add threatening another student of this institution to my complaint.”
The Orc felt his blood boiling, feeling the temper that was common among his race, threatening to wake up the berserker that was sleeping in him. It was like a bear being caged inside him, held on a chain, waiting to be unleashed. Only thing he had to do was just let go of the chain.
Is it worth it?
No, it wasn't. But...lessons had to be teached, lessons had to be learned.
He reached out with his mind, towards Brelyna, and he felt magicka flowing towards her and then he was in her mind. She recognized it and Grulmar felt a wall blocking him, wall made of stone. But his anger was...red hot. He released the anger against the wall, scorching the stone, melting it. He felt that another wall was being raised and he released a wave of energy, lifting the melted stone into the air and hurled it against the second wall. And it crumbled.
He unleashed a storm of images on Brelyna's mind.
Images of her falling down from the bridge, the wind whistling around her body, tugging her hair, the ground closing…
Images of her waking up in the night with hand covering her mouth, cold steel pressed against her throat, the stinging pain as the blade was drawing the first drops of her blood…
Images of her taking bath in Subterrarium, water suddenly getting warmer and warmer. So hot she couldn't take it anymore, but when she tried to crawl out of the pool a hand pushed her back under the water, her skin slowly boiling in that heat…
Images of her taking a sip of Alto wine, enjoying the taste, but then feeling strange pain in her stomach. Searing pain, like if something was trying to crawl out of her body. Slowly suffocating as her air passages pressed together in a cramp induced by poison....
She experienced all that like if it really happened. She was on her knees in front of him, her face being a mask of horror. He leaned closer and growled: “I hope that I made myself clear.”
He walked outside of the Hall and took a deep breath. And then started to laugh.
The power. The control. Holding someone's life in his hands...For the first time in his life he felt strong, that he had enough power to steer his life the way he wanted. He wasn't weak anymore, nobody was laughing at him. And if they did...he would make them to fear him. Because now he could. He could control his own life.
Grulmar noticed Urag was walking towards him, with intimidating frown on his face. Even more intimidating than usual. “You!” the Librarian growled and Grulmar immediately raised his hands.
“I didn't do it.”
Urag frowned in confusion. “Do what?” He then shook his head. “You know what? I don't want to know. But there is something I want to know. You have been to Mzulft? You know where it is?”
Grulmar scratched his eyebrow in confusion. That certainly wasn't a question he was expecting. “Well...technically. I've been only to the storage room outside Mzulft, but yeah, I know where it is.”
“And you have experience with Dwemer ruins?” the interrogation continued, but to what end, Grulmar had no idea.
“Yeah. Did my fair share of treasure huntin' in those ruins. What's this about?”
But Urag was already walking back to the Hall of Elements. “Pack your things. We leave tomorrow. We're heading to Mzulft. Urgent business.”
Uh. Trip with Broody? To Dwemer ruin. Well…
Shit.
Sources used in this Lesson: Silence
Comments
And speaking of... more
And speaking of Dwemer...it is ac... more
Hmm, I often thought that spellcasting doesn't require any sort of incantations, just concentration of the caster's mind and emotion. On a side note, can you imagine how powerful a Silence spell could be when used a... more
Hmm, I often thought that spellcasting doesn't require any sort of incantations, just concentration of the caster's mind and emotion. On a side note, can you imagine how powerful a Silence spell could be when used against Dragons or ... more