Practice of Telvanni Magic: Chapter 12, The Dusty Tale

• Posted by Karver the Lorc June 8, 2017 - Filed in TSC: Mixed - #Straag Rod  #Lissette  #Karver  #Practice of Magic  #Grulmar  #Telvanni  - 2,086 views

  

  The Great Houses and Their Uses

  by

  Tel Verano

   

  Living in the Ashlands, you get used to life being hard. Angry kwama, poisonous fungus, tribal raiders—everything wants to kill you. Don't let them.

   

  I've compiled some notes on the Great Houses of the Dark Elves. Use them or don't. It's your decision. Just don't come crawling to Tel Verano if you find yourself in a Dres slave caravan.

  House Indoril

   

  If you're anywhere near the southern shore of the Inner Sea, House Indoril probably runs the show. The dogs of Almalexia control the most powerful house in Stonefalls and Deshaan. The Dres have money, and House Redoran has troops, but don't be fooled. The blue hats control the spiritual heart of the Ashlands.

   

  Have you seen their crest? It has wings, to let them fly far above us. That's how they see us: beneath them. Far beneath them. The military in Stonefalls is one of the most powerful in the region, and Indoril's war hero Tanval is right at the top.

   

  Loose Coins: Bribe Indoril troops before any others. They have the most clout. Don't try cracking temples. They're like fortresses. Anyone in Indoril robes has serious clout in Stonefalls and Deshaan. Look for easier targets.

   

  House Redoran

  Duty. Honor. Idiocy. Redoran has the common-folk thinking their house is the strong arm of the Pact. Whenever you seen a group of Pact military officers in the field, they want you to think the most impressive hats belong to their noble house.

   

  The reality is somewhat different. Red hat troops do drive the Pact armies, but from the ground, not the top. Argonian scouts and Nord berserkers also command a lot of troops. The reason they try to slip this coin under the cup? Redoran nobles are still upset the Pact was formed in the first place. Their martial prowess looks a little thinner compared to Argonian stealth and Nord courage.

   

  To quote from one of their proverbs: "Life is hard. Judge, endure, and reflect. A careless life is not worth living." That's all well and good until different-looking folks come along. Then it's time to lie and strut for the commoners.

   

  Loose Coins: Redoran troops are humorless, but greedy. Offer one enough, and he'd sell you his own mother. Never insult a Redoran to his face. In fact, never insult a Redoran. They have a tendency to hear things in the training yard. If you're going to pick a pocket, a Redoran is a good target. Just make good your escape, or you'll be meeting with the Three sooner than you planned.

   

  House Hlaalu

  You have to hand it to the Hlaalu. They actually walk the talk when it comes to Pact togetherness. It's not because they suddenly love our ancient enemies and slaves, though. No, Hlaalu's grandmaster is just smarter than most of the rest. An open hand makes it harder to notice the dagger behind your back. Am I right?

   

  While Indoril holds claim to the most powerful positions, Hlaalu has a snake's grip on Deshaan. Narsis is one of their greatest cities, and even in Mournhold, they have a lot of clout. Hlaalu public houses and plantations are everywhere south of Stonefalls. Learn their layouts well. A lot of the builders use the same plans over and over. When you learn the hiding places in one Hlaalu public house, you've learned them all.

   

  Loose Coins: Hlaalu troops are like kwama queens in Deshaan. Use that against them. Outside Deshaan, Hlaalu housemembers are likely to feel like they're standing in an ashstorm. No matter where you see them, yellow hats make good marks. Take them for all they're worth.

   

  House Dres

  You probably think you know the Dres, right? Heartless slavers with rigid class roles. Arrogant nobles who'd just as soon sell you as look at you.

   

  You're pretty much right. "Don't cross Dres" is a good bit of coin you can roll around in your head. I can hear you now, though. "Tel, they have more money than they know what to do with." You're right again. Your average Dres noble has enough jewelry on display to tempt even the most seasoned cutpurse.

   

  Restrain your nimble fingers, friend. Dres justice doesn't bother with Ordinators or local guardsmen. You cross the Dres, you disappear. You're dead or a slave on some noble's plantation.

   

  Loose Coins: The coins are all tied up in a slavemaster's purse. Don't cross the Dres.

   

  House Telvanni

  There's only one good thing about this house of mages: they don't give a guar about the Pact. They only care about their sanctuary on the Telvanni coast. When the Pact formed, they got their robes in a twist and tossed out every other house trooper they could find. They're no friends of the lizards or the Nords. They wouldn't walk to the other side of the road to save another house's grandmaster. In short, they're the classic ivory tower wizards.

   

  Everything else about the brown hats is bad news. They move almost as many slaves as House Dres. To become a noble in House Telvanni, you need serious power. Look at a well-dressed brown hat the wrong way, and they'll melt your face off. They value fabulous magical treasures just as much as books you couldn't trade for a stale loaf of bread.

   

  Loose Coins: Rampaging Daedra couldn't make me assault a mage's tower, but if you're desperate to leave Nirn, I suggest buying armor enchanted against fire and frost. Then observe the tower as long as you can. If the mark has any magical defenses in place, he'll probably have to come outside to restore them. You might have better luck on the street, but examine your new loot carefully. Some treasures have their own defenses built in.

   

  3rd of Evening Star, 4E 203

   

  Grulmar was sitting on a rock close to Tel Mithryn's tower, watching the enormous armored creature standing on its tall, stilt-like legs next to him, just shaking his head in disbelief.

   

  “It still hasn’t sunk in?” Revus Sarvani said behind him and Grulmar only shook his head at that, not looking at the old trader. He heard him sit down next to him, but his eyes were still fixed on the chitin of the Silt Strider in front of him, shaking his head yet again.

   

  “I've seen plenty of weird shit in Skyrim, ya know. Even shit like dragons, but this,” he pointed at Dusty. It even had a tuskin name. “This is the weirdest shit I've ever seen. A tuskin' bug. Huge bug. And livin' for hundreds of years?”

   

  “Ha! Don't you worry about that, my tusked friend. You'll get used to it quite soon,” Revus laughed out loud, startling old Dusty for a second. He made a strange clicking sound and she calmed down again, resuming her quiet rumblings. “Now just imagine trying to rob a traveler riding that.”

   

  Grulmar narrowed his eyes and looked at the old mer. “Why should I be imaginin' that?”

   

  “Being a fetcher isn't too far from being a bandit, am I right?” Revus shrugged and smiled at the Orc. Grulmar rolled his eyes again. Here we go again. Fetcher...stupid Dunmeri word for thief... The old mer was feeding him with the stories of his youth, when he was trying to get by as bandit in Morrowind. Why he was telling him all that was beyond Grulmar. Maybe the old mer just liked to tell stories, or maybe he liked the Orc because he was a thief, thus they both had a criminal past.

   

  “That's bullshit if I ever heard it,” Grulmar retorted, scratching his goatee. “Bein' a fetcher, as ya say, is all about subtlety, about gettin' in and out without bein' seen and without violence. Without leavin' a trail ya were ever there. Banditry is all about killin' and then takin' the stuff ya want from the still warm corpses.”

   

  Sarvani frowned at that and murmured something under his breath. He then threw a rock down the hill. “I guess that's what the modern banditry is all about. But back in my day, we were doing like it should be done. Without bloodshed. That's some old-school shit.”

   

  “Really?” Grulmar faked an interest. “And I bet ya will tell me everythin' about it.” He really did try to put as much sarcasm into it as possible, but for some reason, Revus had decided to ignore it. Which was quite a feat, very few people could ignore that. He's either dumb or goin' senile. Now what's better, eh?

   

  “You can bet your arse I'll tell you about it,” Sarvani snorted, wiping his nose and Grulmar pulled his heavy cloak closer to his body as the cold wind chilled his bones. “You think you’ve eaten all the world's cleverness, don't you, h’lag? Well, then hear this old fool out and you might actually learn something.”

   

  “Oh, so dramatic. I love it,” Grulmar sneered, but Revus just dismissively waved his hand.

   

  “Remember this. A good bandit gets what he wants willingly from his victims, without all that bloody business,” Revus put on his storyteller tone and began talking. “A good bandit knows who will comply and who will not. You don't ambush a Redoran patrol and demand a toll, am I right?”

   

  Well, there might be somethin' to that, the Orc thought. But wait. Wouldn't only an idiot ambush a Redoran patron and demand a toll?

   

  “It's all about acting.  It's not about what you have and what they have,” Revus continued. “You have to be smart. It's about what they think you have and what you want from them. There was this one time when my band was about to ambush a big caravan down in Deshaan. And I mean it, it was quite big caravan. Plenty of traders and at least a dozen paid guards. There was only five of us.” He paused for a second, a dreamy cloud in his eyes and a smile spread on his face. “So what did we do? There was this fellow among us.  Margleyn, was his name and before he became a bandit, he was an actor. He knew all the tricks.  Could put a sad look on his face anytime he wanted. Do the puppy eyes and such and we were always ready to give him anything just to make him put on his happy face again. Clever bastard that one-”

   

  Grulmar put his face into his hands and shook his head. Someone, please kill me… But, at least, it was better than hearing that tale about how Revus found Dusty in a cave on Vvardenfell after Red Mountain erupted. Which was complete horseshit, because Vvardenfell was inhospitable since that time. Right? He asked Revus what was he doing in a place where nothing could live but the old mer only told him not to interrupt his story telling. How fortunate for him.

   

  “And so we were hiding in the bushes,” Sarvani continued, “each one of us with a few loaded crossbows lying on the ground. And when the caravan arrived, Margleyn just stood in the middle of the road, waiting for them to come closer. Then he began spinning this great story about bandits lurking around and that they all should be very careful. In that moment we began shooting the crossbows, mostly into the wagons and the ground. It was real hailstorm of bolts, we were just switching one crossbow for another. And the guards just took the legs on their shoulders and ran like if cliffracers were upon them, leaving the merchants and their goods. Some of the merchants followed them, but few remained. And it was then that we came out of the bushes, just four of us.  The merchants couldn't believe their eyes, if you know what I mean. So-”

   

  For. Arkay's. Marble. Balls. Who the tusk would believe this kind of tale? Grulmar rubbed his eyes and sighed. I say ya should run, matey, or ya will be forced to listen to more of this bullshit.  

  

  Talvas was sitting in the tower's laboratory, balancing his weight on the back legs of the chair, conscious of the rhythmic teetering the action produced, while his eyes were focused on a book in his hands. Though, while his eyes kept staring at the pages, he caught himself reading the same sentence over and over again, not really remembering what he read. It had to be his mind.  It was wandering in all sorts of directions these days. Since the Orc arrived in Tel Mithryn he had to admit, though reluctantly, that the place certainly got a lot more lively. Especially with the Riekling around.

   

  He also found out that he was spending more time with Varona than studying magic and he wasn't sure what to think about that. Talvas was quite certain that his feelings for her didn't change, he was still keeping his distance. And he wasn't with her because he particularly enjoyed her presence, it was just...he needed the release that came with sex. Was that cold? Maybe it was, just using her like that. He knew that she felt something for him, definitely more than he for her, but...it wasn't the same as with Ildari. He enjoyed every second he spent with her, but with Varona…

   

  Talvas didn't really understand his own feelings in that regard. He didn't really care for her, deep down, but at the same time there was a part in him that...needed her. The comfort she was giving him, the relief.

   

  He set aside the book and sighed, looking at the Riekling lying on the floor, snoring. “I envy you. You really have a simple life. Eating, shitting, sleeping, getting drunk. Yeah, that you do exceptionally well. And then you shit everywhere.”

   

  “Sheeeeeet,” Maaahtiii yawned half asleep and rolled to his side, releasing a loud fart which made Talvas shake his head in disbelief. Damn bliss. That's what the little guy is experiencing. And the Orc was more or less same. Though not so stupid. The Orc had a temper as any true Orc, sure, but the only way he was letting it out was through his cursing. And sarcasm combined with bad jokes, but otherwise...he seemed that he was actually quite content with his place in the world, as if he really found his place.

   

  But sometimes Grulmar acted strangely. Talking in his sleep, not speaking a word for a whole day after that. But otherwise? He's alright. For an Orc, of course. Talvas was trying to keep up with the Orc's humor, which was really bad sometimes, but it was at least something to do at otherwise boring small settlement.

   

  He then rubbed his eyes and shook his head. From Varona to Grulmar...seriously, Talvas, who are you in love with? Just...focus on your studies, alright? Focus… He picked up the book again, reading the first sentence, only to slam the book on the table in frustration. That woke Maaahtiii sleeping under the table and he jumped up, hitting his head.

   

  “Sheeeeeet!” the Riekling moaned while he crawled from under the table, rubbing the top of his head. He looked at Talvas with his yellow puppy eyes and said: “Sheeeeet. Stiiiings.”

   

  “Hey, don't look at me,” the Dunmer rose from his chair and began pacing around the room. “Damn it. I can't focus. Like...what if I really like her?”

   

  “Laaaaiiik?” the Riekling mimicked, badly.

   

  “I know it's bullshit. How could I?” Talvas continued. “We have nothing in common beside living in the same place,” He eyed Maaahtiii before speaking again and saw how the yellow eyes were fixed on him. “I just...she distracts me, but I don't know why.”

   

  “Knoooow. Buuuulsheeeeet.” The riekling gurgled, now blowing spit bubbles while he nodded.

   

  “You're right,” the Dunmer murmured, though he wondered how the riekling could snap its head back and forth like that without breaking his neck when he nodded like that. “Do you think I should just ignore her? Stop seeing her and stuff?”

   

  “Hrrrrrrr. Staaaaf.” He replied, scrunching up his face.  

   

  The Dunmer stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. “Who's team are you kicking for here, anyway?” he asked and then frowned, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “Oh, who am I kidding? I'm talking to a Riekling about my personal life. A Riekling who doesn't understand a word I'm saying!”

   

  “Wrrrrrrrd. Saaaaiiiiin,” the Riekling nodded vigorously. Talvas both heard and smelled the responding fart.  

   

  “Yeah, shit on it,” Talvas rubbed his eyes. “Wait. I should talk to her, that's what you are saying? But if I tell her all that, she'll hate me. How am I supposed to focus when she'll be throwing hateful stares at me?”

   

  “Fuuuuuul meeeeee.”

   

  The Dunmer raised his eyebrows and then backed away. “I think I don't really want to know what that means,” he murmured, shaking his head.

   

  At that moment, Master Neloth levitated to the top of the tower, causing Maaahtiii to jump in fright, releasing a scream and quickly hiding under the table. The Telvanni Magister looked at Talvas with a frown, one of his sculpted eyebrows twisting upwards. “Did you just scream like a little girl?” He asked snidely.

   

  “What? No,” the Dunmer raised his hand, as if he was trying to put distance between himself and the Riekling under the table. “Definitely not me.”

   

  “Sure, of course not,” Neloth narrowed his eyes and looked around. “That would be… odd. Hmm… though I wonder. Now where is that ash-sucking steward of mine? Varona!” he shouted and Talvas frowned at the portrayal of Neloth's irritation. If he was like that, it never ended well. Certainly worse than the Orc… “Have you seen Varona?” he focused his attention back to Talvas and the apprentice twitched under the magister’s intensity.

   

  “No,” he peeped, sounding almost as high-pitched as the Riekling. Dammit.

   

  “Gah!” Came the quick scoff. “Speak in full sentences, boy!” the Telvanni wizard barked. “You sound almost like that Riekling this way. And stand straight, don't slouch like some skulking Hlaalu rat,” he hissed.

   

  “Yes, master Neloth,” the Dunmer apprentice cleared his throat and straightened.

   

  “Yes? Then where is she?”

   

  Talvas blinked few times and then shook his head. “I mean no, I haven't seen her, master Neloth. Something happened?”

   

  Neloth waved his hand and began pacing around the room in very similar way Talvas was doing a few moments ago. Even Maaahtiii's eyes appeared at the edge of the table, warily watching Neloth pace back and forth. “I'm hungry!” the Magister murmured and then stopped pacing, frowning at Talvas. “Well? Why are you still standing here? Go find her!”

   

  Talvas immediately darted towards the shaft, his head bowed. “Of course, Master Neloth. As you command.”

   

  “Tell her I want apple cabbage stew, with some canis root tea!”

   

  “Teeeeeeee!” the Riekling shouted as if he was about to attack with a battlecry on his lips and he ran ahead of Talvas, jumping down the shaft, making the Dunmer raise his eyebrows, expecting a loud cracking sound. When it didn't come, he frowned and exchanged glances with Master Neloth.

   

  “Is it dead?” Neloth asked and Talvas looked down the shaft, seeing Maaahtiii skillfully climbing down and he shook his head, both in disbelief and as an answer to Neloth. Then he reminded himself of the lesson and straightened.

   

  “No, master Neloth, it is not.”

   

  “Good,” the Telvanni murmured. “Someone would have had to clean the mess otherwise. Now go find my steward! Be useful or something!” He punctuated his command with several flicks of his wrist, as if he was swatting a fly.

   

  “Yes, Master Neloth,” Talvas murmured and cast a levatition spell, slowly descending down the shaft. He really wanted to tell Neloth to go stab himself, but then he realized that was probably the Orc talking through him. His attitude was beginning to rub off on him.

   

  And where in the Oblivion is Varona? She wasn't supposed to go for the supplies yet. The Riekling ran out of the tower and Talvas followed him, walking down the sidewalk and watching Mahti run around, mumbling something in his strange language, looking under rocks. Talvas was just thinking where could Varona be. He knew that Neloth didn't spend much time actually looking for her, he was most likely just shouting around. The Riekling then ran back to Talvas and handed him a chamber pot.

   

  “Vrrrroooonaaaa,” the Riekling said cheerfully, jumping up and down. “Vrrrroooonaaaa.”

   

  The Dunmer just frowned at Mahti and took a step back from the Riekling handing him over the chamber pot. “Yeah, but I'm looking for the person, not her…” He sighed and rubbed his nose. “Now I won't get the image out of my mind. Just...go find Grulmar. Godspeak. Alright?”

   

  “Godspeeeeak!” Mahti squeeled and began running around again, looking under the sidewalk leading to the tower and then he disappeared from Talvas's line of sight. The Dunmer headed towards the kitchen and popped his head inside, noticing Ulves Romoran putting wood on fire.

   

  “Ulves?” he raised his voice and the old mer turned to him. “Have you seen Varona?” The old cook shook his head and Talvas sighed, withdrawing from the doorstep and closing the door behind him. Next was apothecary and he headed there. The answer he got there was the same.

   

  If she isn't in Tel Mithryn, then where could she be? Damn it. He hoped she didn't head to Raven Rock for supplies on her own. It was really dangerous these days, the ash spawn were getting more bold, drawing closer to the tower. Almost as if they were gathering their numbers so they could launch a massive attack on the tower. Like if Tel Mithryn was their target right from the beginning, he thought but then just shook his head. What a paranoid thought, Talvas.

   

  Maybe she went to the Sun Stone and so he slowly headed there. He then stopped when he noticed Grulmar sitting on a rock to the west, near old Dusty, with the even older Revus Sarvani. Talvas wasn't able to make any details in the distance, so he shouted. “Have you seen Varona?!” The Orc and Revus looked in his direction and the Orc put a hand to his ear, clear gesture the he couldn’t really hear. “Have you seen Varona?!” Talvas repeated, louder this time, but the Orc just gestured that he still couldn’t hear. “Oh for fuck's sake,” the Dunmer muttered, increasing his pace as he walked towards them.  

   

  “What were ya shoutin’?” the Orc asked, his face clearly telling Talvas that he was glad for the interruption. Revus was most likely telling one of his stretched bandit tales.

   

  “If you've seen Varona.” Talvas huffed out a reply.

   

  The Orc scratched his goatee. “Well, this mornin', yeah. Not since then though. She said somethin' about headin' into the hills, lookin' for Canis Root or somethin'.”

   

  Into the hills, Talvas thought and his head snapped to north, towards the hills leading deeper inland. Into the hills. The Dunmer's eyes went wide when he realized what that meant. Ash Spawn. Bandits. Reavers. Wild life…

   

  “What's the matter with ya?” the Orc asked and Talvas shot him an accusing look.

   

  “Into the hills!” he growled. “You let her go alone there?! Are you mad? We have to go after her! Now!” Idiot. Fucking green piece of idiotic shit!

   

  “I ain't her nanny if ya haven't noticed!” the Orc snapped back and Revus Sarvani just observed all that with a neutral face, his eyes darting between the two of them.  

   

  “This island is dangerous!” the Dunmer now shouted, pointing towards the hills. “What if something attacks her? There is a bandit stronghold up there!”

   

  “And how the tusk I'm supposed to know that? Or that she can't really take care of herself?!” Grulmar rose to his feet, raising his voice. “If she can't, then why the tusk is she out there? It's not my tuskin' problem!”

   

  “Then fuck you! I'm going after her myself!” Talvas yelled, turning his back to the Orc to head for the hills, willing his legs to go even faster.  

   

  “Oh for tusk's sake,” he heard the Orc curse behind him. “How is that everythin's always my fault?”

   

  Because every time you fuck something up! Talvas grunted in his mind, while focusing on his breaths. Why are you so upset, actually? he asked himself and that question almost made him stop. What would happen if Varona got hurt? As the Orc said, it was her choice to go there and she was so stubborn that trying to stop her would be in vain anyway. So why was he so upset? Because you don't want to see her get hurt.

   

  Really? Was she the one and only thing keeping him above the water’s surface, preventing him from drowning? Maybe she was. And if he lost her...he would drown? He wasn't prepared to learn the truth about his feelings for her. I… please, don't die, Varona. Please be safe! he prayed while running.

  

  Talvas leaned against a tree and breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. He could see  Ashfellow keep in the distance to the north-east and so far, not a trace of Varona. He found a few canis roots picked clean, but beside that, he had absolutely no idea which way Varona went. His eyes scanned the hill leading to the keep and shook his head. He hoped Varona wasn't foolish enough to go in that direction. She knew very well about the bandits residing there. Where did she go then? he wondered, looking around.

   

  Reclamations, please. Keep her safe! he prayed while still deciding which direction to take. His breaths were now getting more steady and he certainly regretted he wasn't exercising more - but why should he? He was member of Great House Telvanni. Telvanni Magisters weren't running around, all sweaty and such. How exactly do they travel anyway? Maybe they use teleportation. Or they were carried by slaves? Hmm.

   

  A scream coming from the west made his eyes go wide. It was a woman's scream.

   

  Talvas darted in the direction, turning his run into a full sprint, jumping over fallen trees and avoiding the still standing ones. He heard another scream and he felt panic grip his heart like a vice. Please, don't. Please please please! Don't die! Don't die! The words became like a chant, matching the rhythm of his pounding feet, over and over again.

   

  As he was running, the truth became crystal clear. He didn't love her, but he cared for her. He was...used to her. She became a part of his everyday life and he couldn't imagine how it would be if she was dead. He was holding on to her like a child holds on to his favourite toy. It knows the toy will one day be gone, but right at that moment it doesn't want to lose the toy. Varona was important to him, because she was keeping his life the same. He didn't want to change his life. He wanted to be the same as long as possible.

   

  He was nearing the stream and then he saw her.

   

  Lying in the ash, her clothes dirty. Leaning against a tree. Unmoving.

   

  Nononononononono!

   

  Then another Dunmer entered his line of vision. A female, in grey and gold clothes, wielding two daggers.

   

  He noticed several piles of ash and rich metals around the woman.

   

  He wasn't stopping, no, he increased his pace and began gathering magicka around his hand, shaping it into a frost spell-

   

  “Ish thish how you greet your family, my boy?” sounded a voice from the side and Talvas stopped dead in his tracks, looking where the voice came from.

   

  “Grandfather?” He heard his voice say, the surprise in it clear.