Practice of Telvanni Magic: Chapter 15, Hearts of Stone

  •  

    The Red Year

    Volume I

    by

    Melis Ravel

     

    Foreword

     

    When I originally decided to write this accounting of the Red Year, I elected to travel across Morrowind and speak to the Dunmer people themselves. I sought first-hand accounts and personal views about the cataclysmic event. I felt that if I simply did the research in the library stacks at the College of Winterhold, I wasn't really telling the tale that needed to be told. What struck me as I moved from city to city, town to town, camp to camp is that all of the Dunmer I met shared an incredible bond of sheer courage and unshakable faith. So what began as a chronicle of one of the worst events in the history of Morrowind became something altogether different, the celebration of a people who can never be defeated.

     

    Drallin Vess

    Tear

     

    "The ground... it just turned into mush. There was almost no warning. I mean, we were what... perhaps a mile from the nearest swamps? It was like the swamp suddenly swallowed up half of the city."

     

    I asked him to describe what happened from the beginning.

     

    "I owned a farm just outside of Tear at the time. We were planting the next season's crops and getting ready to store what we had harvested. Everything was going well until the Red Mountain exploded. Almost immediately, the ground rumbled and shook. Cracks started forming everywhere and then the water just started seeping through. It was awful. In a matter of hours, I was knee-deep in swamp water running for my life. Where I was running, I had no idea. At first I ran towards the city itself, but it looked like the walls were cracking. All around me, people were desperately trying to save their livestock and their families from the rising water. Just when the ground shaking finally died down, and I had a moment to think, there was a horrible cracking noise. I'll never forget it, because I knew what it was before I looked. The entire southern wall of Tear collapsed sending guards tumbling into the swamp. I heard people screaming as they were covered by the rubble and forced down into the water. Forgetting my own problems, I looked over at my fellow farmers who were all staring at the carnage unfolding before us. Suddenly, we all just forgot our own problems and ran to help. There must have been hundreds of the poorer folks who lived outside the walls helping the richer ones who lived in the city. Never saw anything like that. I think we must have saved hundreds more that day."

     

    Neria Relethyl

    Gnisis

     

    Neria was badly burned by the eruption, and had trouble speaking to me. She is currently convalescing at the Temple of Azura in Blacklight even after all these years. I've tried to record her story to the best of my ability.

     

    "It was such a terrible thing... the fire. It burned everything in its path. It flattened trees, turned our huts into splinters and knocked over towers like they were made from parchment. It all happened in an instant. A rumbling sound, then a massive wall of flame... it was so high it blocked out the sun. I thought that the world itself had split apart. It passed over the water and turned it to steam... vaporized everything it touched. When it finally hit us, I was blown off of my feet... didn't even have time to run away or seek shelter. I ended up in the riverbed next to town, which kept some of the flames off of me. All around... could smell the charred stench of death. There were Dunmer that were burned alive and some never even saw it coming. I lay in that riverbed for two days before the healers found me. When I could finally stand, Gnisis was gone. There wasn't a thing left... it's as though it was wiped from the face of Tamriel."

     

    7th of Evening Star, 4E 203

     

    A Dunmer and an Orc were picking their way up the hill covered in ash, passing dead and burned trees. They were traveling mainly north-west from Tel Mithryn, towards a ruined tower, both covered in heavy cloaks to chase away the biting cold and scarves to protect their faces from the ash. Talvas, using his staff made of ash wood as a support,  sported Dunmeri goggles to  further safeguard his eyes from the ash and just by looking at Grulmar, he could see the Orc was regretting his choice of not taking them too.

     

    Normally the ash wasn't such a big problem if it wasn't falling down from the sky, but as they were getting higher, the cold wind blowing from Sea of Ghosts was picking up the ash covering the earth and throwing it in their faces. Grulmar was walking with a hand in front of his eyes, always stumbling over something on the ground and Talvas shook his head every time the Orc nearly tripped. Very poorly prepared for this land, the Dunmer thought, chuckling.  

     

    “Somethin' funny?” the Orc grumbled, making the question redundant because he surely had quite a clear picture of what was so funny to Talvas.

     

    “Nothing,” the Dunmer murmured and shrugged. “Maybe next time you'll take the goggles.”

     

    “Of course I bloody will,” Grulmar grimaced. “Bloody ash…” But then he cheered up again, his steps becoming considerably more vigorous. “But still...I kicked some arse with that Dimwit, right?”

     

    Talvas rolled his eyes, though the Orc probably couldn't see it. “So you beat a dimwitted pretender mage. Don't get cocky.”

     

    “Spoilsport,” the Orc sneered and Talvas sighed.

     

    “It's not that,” the Dunmer waved with his hand in the air and then pointed on Grulmar. “You are good, yeah. You can improvise. But seriously, you can't rely on your opponent running out of magicka or his protection wearing off, every time. Neither can you expect that your ‘tricks’ will work a second time. If there is a second time.”

     

    “So what am I supposed to do, all mighty and wise sage?” Neloth's new apprentice asked dryly, looking at Talvas with a frown on his face.

     

    The Dunmer avoided a big rock in the ground, his eyes scanning it for any trace of Heart Stones, but when he didn't see any he continued. “Come on, Windbag,” he raised his hands in yield. “I'm not trying to offend you. At least not this time. You are good, I give you that and the fact that you can improvise is definitely good. Most mages just go in with a set plan, knowing the exact spells they’ll use in a fight. This method has its advantages and disadvantages, yes. You can cast spells in rapid succession, not lettinng your opponent  catch a breath. But if you come into a fight with only frost spells and your opponent turns out to be good at good at frost protection spells? Then-”

     

    “Then ya are tusked,” the Orc finished. “Alright, got it. Improvisation is good. But how do I get through the protection spells?”

     

    “That's where Destruction usually comes in,” Talvas said, shaking his head. “But you're not really good with that, right? Though we could try to work on that later. Maybe after we return?” the Dunmer offered.

     

    “Yeah,” Grulmar shrugged, clearly trying to act casual. “Wouldn't mind that. Where are we headin' anyway?”

     

    Talvas pointed up the hill, towards the ruined tower. “There. There are a few deposits of Heart Stones there and if Raven Rock prospectors haven’t picked them clean, there still might be enough for Neloth's needs. But be ready, Ash Spawn are usually associated with these deposits.”

     

    “Which is interestin', isn't it?” the Orc scratched his goatee. “What are those stones anyway? And...why the name Heart Stones?”

     

    Talvas frowned and then smiled. Of course the Orc isn't stupid, so why are you still surprised, Talvas? He is curious, just as you are or any other mage. Maybe he was always surprised because he couldn't really put it out of his mind that Grulmar was an Orc. A race not really known for curiosity in the esoteric studies of mages. He's more than an Orc. He's a mage, just keep that in mind, Talvas. “Well, there are a few theories, but most agree that they come from there,” he pointed behind him, towards Vvardenfell and the volcano still spitting out a column of ash. “They come from the heart of Red Mountain. Thus the name - at least I think. As for what they are… technically, they are molten rocks from the volcano's bowels, but I suppose your question is what makes them special, right?”

     

    “Yeah,” the Orc nodded. “What makes them special, that's exactly my question. Though I had no idea they were special in the first place,” he mumbled, looking away.

     

    Talvas chuckled. “Ha! People say that the stones are seeped with the magic of the Dwemer and Dagoth Ur, evil and powerful magic. It could be true, because the Demon-Under-Mountain was poisoning Vvardenfell from under Red Mountain for centuries with Blight storms and such, so it isn't that difficult for people to just say that the stones are evil.”

     

    “Dagoth Ur?” Grulmar repeated, mulling the name over on his tongue before speaking again. “Sixth House right? Well, from what I've heard, he certainly wasn't a ray of sunshine.”

     

    Talvas stopped and looked at the Orc, not really sure if he was joking or not - it was sometimes really hard to tell when it came to Grulmar. “Power is not inherently evil, you know. The stones hold power, but why should it automatically be evil? It all just depends on how you use the power,” he said, pointing at Grulmar. Though as soon as he said those words they turned to ash on his tongue when he recalled what happened with Ildari. But that was for the greater good. “We are Telvanni - or at least I am and you want to be - so you should remember our motto: ‘The forceful expression of will gives true honor to the Ancestors.’”

     

    The Orc grimaced at that. “What if I don't give a Khajiit’s flyin’ shit about honorin' my ancestors?” He then threw up his arms in frustration, as if Talvas' words were getting under his skin, which seemed little bit odd to the Dunmer. “And what ya just said stinks of horseshit. Power can be evil, it's knowledge that inherently isn't. Necromancy, summonin' Daedra, questionable rituals. What good ever came from those?”

     

    Talvas stared at the Orc for a moment, wondering if he was serious or not. When he realized he was, he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “But it all depends on how you use them,” he retorted, looking for a reasonable argument that could crack the Orc's shell. “You might not believe, it but the practice of necromancy has actually propelled the knowledge of anatomy forward. The summoning of Daedra has given us answers about the multitude of realms of Oblivion out there, even teaching us new techniques of magic. As for the questionable rituals...what do you mean by that?”

     

    The Orc then looked away, almost looking ashamed for some reason, as if Talvas' words brought up some memory that carried a flavour of regret with it. “When ya have a power in yer reach, ya should grasp it, no matter what kind of power it is,” the Orc murmured, frowning. “That's what ya are sayin'? That when I see an opportunity, I should take a leap, no matter the consequences?”

     

    Talvas frowned. “The Telvanni believe that the consequences can be controlled,” he replied carefully, not really sure what the Orc was talking about now. He felt certain undercurrents in the discussion and he realised that Grulmar was definitely hiding something, something he wasn't really proud of. Or maybe he isn't sure how to feel about it.

     

    “With enough power?” Grulmar snorted. “That's bullshit. Ya can't control the consequences of yer actions with power. Ya either give a shit about what yer actions can cause or ya don't, that's pretty much the only control ya have over that.” He then threw his arms to the air in  frustration and kicked ash into the air. “And what if someone's pushin' ya in a certain direction and ya just can't say no, hmm?”

     

    The Dunmer frowned, remembering the dinner with his grandfather. All dinners with his grandfather. When he was young, he couldn't say no, he couldn't disobey the Lord of House Ules. But running away, getting out of that old mer's influence, that gave him enough strength to say no the other day. “Maybe you just didn't have enough power to make it count?” he offered and for some reason the Orc twitched as if Talvas had just slapped him. “If you don't want to do something and you run away from it, you gain strength,” he then said aloud what he was thinking only seconds ago. “You met my grandfather, you probably even got the right picture of him, so you can guess that running away was the only option I had to be free of him.  And now? I said ‘no’ to him. No! And it worked.”

     

    The Orc narrowed his eyes. “Did it now?”

     

    The Dunmer raised his eyebrows, wondering about the meaning of those words. Did it now? Are you really free of your grandfather? Do you really expect he'll let you go, now that he’s come for you? You ran away and yet he still came. Maybe the Orc did have a point, but for some reason, he seemed more concerned about what was said than his own problems. “You alright?” Talvas asked.

     

    Grulmar sighed before shrugging. “Just got lot to think about, that's all.” He looked Talvas in the eye then and pointed towards the tower. “We've wasted enough time,” he murmured and resumed walking up the hill.  

     

    “I hope we'll be able to return before nightfall,” the Dunmer pointed out, leaning against his staff as he followed the Orc with narrowed eyes. There was something that was haunting the Orc but because Grulmar wasn't exactly the sharing type, Talvas could only guess at what it was. Maybe something with his family? Hmm. You don't even know if he has  family or where he comes from, Talvas. Well, he came from Skyrim, but that's all you know. He acts like a city Orc, but the tattoo suggests he's from a stronghold.

     

    The Dunmer was lost in his own thoughts for longer than he expected because the tower was suddenly looming in front of them. It used to be an Imperial structure a long time ago, maybe a watchtower of sorts, but all that was remaining of it now was its base. Or maybe it was only the top, who could really tell if it just didn't sunk into the ground and then it was covered with ash?

     

    Talvas could see one deposit right at the foot of the structure and narrowed his eyes, looking around the surroundings. “Let's take it slow, alright?” he whispered, his eyes on the ground. Ash Spawn usually came directly from the ash, striking from below first, which usually gave them the element of surprise. “If they show up aim for their chests, where their heart would be. Destroy the molten rocks in their chests and they will crumble,” he said to Grulmar quietly.

     

    But the Orc just shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the tower, leaving Talvas behind to stare at his back. “Didn't you hear what I just said?” he half-whispered, half-yelled.

     

    Grulmar shrugged again. “I hear ya alright, yeah.”

     

    He was nearing the rock formation beneath the tower when the ash under the Orc's feet suddenly began to whirl. Before Talvas could shout out, a spear of molten rock emerged from the ground, aiming for Grulmar's crotch, but the Orc already jumped to the side, rolling over his shoulder. He stood back on his feet with wicked grin on his feet. “I'll show ya, ya tusker,” Grulmar gritted his teeth and his hand began glowing with a green light.

     

    Illusion? Talvas wondered and then his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Wait!” he shouted, but Grulmar  had already cast the spell on the Ash Spawn crawling out of the ash.

     

    The spell hit its mark.

     

    And Grulmar yelled in pain.

     

    Shit!

     

    The Orc fell to his knees, his hands grasping his head, burying his nails into his temples. “It burns!” Grulmar yelled and Talvas cursed again.

     

    Two more Ash Spawn sprung up from the ash and headed towards Talvas, one holding a sword of molten rock, the second raising its hand in the Dunmer's direction. The third spawn - Grulmar's target - was now out of the ground and walked towards the Orc.

     

    “Watch carefully, Saint Voryn,” Talvas mumbled.  

     

    The second Ash Spawn released a bolt of fire from its hand and Talvas focused on the heat it emanated, raising a barrier around him that protected him from fire, pouring as much magicka into it as he could. The bolt hit him in the chest but cause no harm and he smirked. My turn.

     

    His mind plunged into the seas of Oblivion, knowing very well what it was looking for. He breached the transliminal barrier, focusing his hyperagonal senses on his surroundings, looking for a suitable subject. The air around him was so cold he could feel the limen crack and break, the stones under his feet flowing as their basic compound was broken into infinitessimals by the cosmic frost all around him. The Fourth Sinus of Takubar, he murmured in his mind, but reminded himself he didn't have time for sightseeing. And then he saw it, an atronach, not so different from the regular Flame Atronach in shape and size, but this one was burning with blue flames emanating such cold that he shuddered. He reached forward, grabbed the Atronach by its neck and implanted a sigil upon its forehead, dragging it back with him.

     

    The Atronach materialized right in front of the Ash Spawn with the sword, the air crackling with the sudden temperature drop.

     

    Talvas pressurized the cold air and released it in the form of a  freezing wind  in the direction of the Ash Spawn heading for Grulmar, freezing its legs, and the air hissed,  as the cold battled the inner fire of the creature. It fell on the ground, shattering its legs in the process, a black and red, quickly cooling liquid flowing from the stumps onto the ash.

     

    He heard a loud crack and looked at the Cold-Flame Atronach, who had just blocked the Ash Spawn’s sword with its hand. The sword shattered into dozens of pieces, a few hitting the Atronach's body where they quickly vaporized, and few hitting the Ash Spawn, ripping half of its face away. The Atronach then buried its hand into the Ash Spawn's chest, causing a blue light to explode from the creature's eyes and mouth as its heart was destroyed. It crumbled into a pile of dust and the Atronach then glided towards the Ash Spawn that was throwing firebolts.

     

    The Ash Spawn without legs was still crawling towards Grulmar, who was lying on the ground, moaning in pain and Talvas frowned. Would have been lot easier if you just listened, damn it! Talvas froze the air around his hands and then pushed, releasing spears of ice at the crawling Ash Spawn, pinning it to the ground, but missing the heart. He cursed under his breath and called forth another piece of ice, this time aiming carefully. He quickly shot it through the creature's chest, finally hitting the mark.

     

    When the most imminent threat was crumbling to dust, he looked at his Atronach, feeling the summoning sigil weakening, and saw that the Atronach was exchanging bolts of magic with the Ash Spawn from a distance, orange and blue flames being thrown from one side to another. But the Atronach was more mobile, easily avoiding the Spawn's firebolts, while its own cold flames always hit their mark, making the Ash Spawn crack piece by piece under the intense cold.

     

    The Ash Spawn then ran closer to the Atronach and Talvas frowned when he felt how the sigil was pushed beyond its boundaries. He ran towards Grulmar, quickly raising a shield against the cold and then even adding a Ward on top of that.

     

    The Atronach exploded in a cold fire, consuming the Spawn in the process but also engulfing Talvas and Grulmar in bones-chilling flames. Talvas could feel his protection spells crack and break under such intense cold and he gritted his teeth, pouring more magicka into them. When it was over, he dropped to his knees next to Grulmar, releasing a sigh of relief. “Maybe Takubar shouldn't have been my first choice,” he muttered as he caught his breath.

     

    “Taku-what?” Grulmar next to him moaned, his head still in his hands. Talvas shook his head and leaned over him, drawing his reserves of magicka, filtering them, and then releasing them into Grulmar's body, easing off his pain a little. “Ya could have warned me,” the Orc moaned faintly, still recuparating from the not very pleasant experience.

     

    “I tried,” the Dunmer replied, annoyed. “I would have. If you had given me a chance. Illusion doesn't work on these creatures.”

     

    “No shit,” Grulmar retorted, but his voice was weak. “I saw fire,” he said, closing his eyes. “A world on fire. The air filled with smoke. Molten rocks falling from the sky.” He then looked at Talvas, the shock and pain still in his eyes. “I saw the death. Of everything.”

     

    The Dunmer nodded and sighed. “Red Year.” He pointed at the dust the Ash Spawn had turned into and shook his head. “That's all they remember, all they see. They live it every day.”

     

    “That’s some tusked up shit,” Grulmar growled as he began slowly getting back to his feet.  Talvas took a step closer when the Orc stumbled, still weak. But Grulmar stopped him with raised hand, trying to regain his balance on his own. “So much anguish. Consuming rage,” he continued, his eyes clouded as if they were looking through time, through the eyes of long dead people. “There was fear, terror. And then the fire came. Searing hot, skin peeling off, eyes turning into liquid-”

     

    Talvas grabbed the Orc by his shoulders and shook him hard, the Orc’s behavior beginning to freak him out. “Snap out of it!” he shouted,  but Grulmar just kept muttering something to himself. So Talvas slapped him.

     

    The red eyes suddenly focused on the Dunmer with anger flashing in them. “Hey! Was that really necessary?”

     

    Talvas tool a step back and sighed in relief, pulling the collar of his robe to get more air and he finally allowed himself to breath. “Honestly? I think so.”

     

    The Orc rubbed his forehead with closed eyes and sighed. “Tuskin’ head. Feels like it’s goin’ to explode any second. Tuskin’ Ash Spawn.” He kicked the pile of ash that used to be the unnatural creature, and then scowled when something sparkled in the ash, his brows lowering. The Orc picked it up and Talvas could see a rock of a golden color, as big as Grulmar’s fist. “Is that a gold? Raw gold?” the Orc murmured, looking at Talvas. “Finders keepers!” he shouted and began picking through the ash piles for more rare minerals.

     

    Talvas shook his head and chuckled. Just take them, take all you can carry. It was definitely better to see the Orc like this than how he was just moments again. It was creepy, the way the Orc talked and it troubled Talvas, because he had never seen anyone react like that to Ash Spawn. Yes, he knew that they were resistant to Illusion spells, and that sometimes the spells even backfired, but never to such extent.   

     

    He and Grulmar were bound to have a serious chat about that. Later. Once we get the stones we came for.

     

    When he looked up, he noticed that Grulmar already had his sack full of rare metals like gold, silver and ebony and so Talvas headed towards the tower’s base.

     

    “The Ash Spawn,” Grulmar said behind him in a thoughtful tone. “They were killed by the eruption. By fire and such. But those Heart Stones brought them back, right?”

     

    “Yes,” Talvas mumbled distantly, his thoughts tracking their way back to Ildari, how she and Neloth were trying to recreate the same circumstances through a necromantic ritual.

     

    “Tuskin’ necromancy!” the Orc spat on the ground, almost as if he was reading Talvas’ mind. “What does Neloth bloody need the stones for?”

     

    “Do you really want to know?” Talvas looked Grulmar in the eye, challenging him. And the Orc just shook his head.

     

    “No, definitely not. I think he shouldn’t get them at all.”

     

    Talvas looked at the deposit and solemnly nodded. “I agree.”

     

     

     

     

Comments

5 Comments   |   The Sunflower Manual and 8 others like this.
  • Caladran
    Caladran   ·  February 23, 2018
    Grulmar has some creepy moments when he goes talking like that. o.o
  • A-Pocky-Hah!
    A-Pocky-Hah!   ·  June 14, 2017
    Takubar, eh? I take it the sigil Talvas placed on the atronach was a way to keep it bound to him. But how come the cold-fire atronach needs a sigil while others don't? Is it because its more resistant to getting binded?
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      A-Pocky-Hah!
      Takubar, eh? I take it the sigil Talvas placed on the atronach was a way to keep it bound to him. But how come the cold-fire atronach needs a sigil while others don't? Is it because its more resistant to getting binded?
        ·  June 14, 2017
      Hmm. You can call it an imagery, a Telvanni techmique, or just playing with words. There has to be something that is part of the summoning spell that also bounds the daedra, and I just played with images it's invisible metaphysical sigil. If that makes sense, lol
  • The Sunflower Manual
    The Sunflower Manual   ·  June 14, 2017
    Another great fight scene. Good to see more elemental interactions, and it was a pleasant surprise to see Talvas resourceful enough to summon from Takubar. Nice work, Karver-jo!
    • Karver the Lorc
      Karver the Lorc
      The Sunflower Manual
      The Sunflower Manual
      The Sunflower Manual
      Another great fight scene. Good to see more elemental interactions, and it was a pleasant surprise to see Talvas resourceful enough to summon from Takubar. Nice work, Karver-jo!
        ·  June 14, 2017
      Thank you, mate. Yeah, Talvas is quite resourceful and powerful too. You shall see. :)