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Arc 8 Chapter LXII: Hortator
🕑 Added 2025-01-05 05:34:09 +0000 UTCA/n: A cheeky super early chap, enjoy!
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(General POV)
Vasilor of the Erabenimsun, the Ashkhan of that selfsame tribe of proud warriors and protectors, found himself standing at the edge of Ald'ruhn for the third morning in a row, his eyes still unused to the sight of lands bereft of their curse.
Rolling rocky hills replaced dunes of ash, clear skies of blue overtook endless gray and a pleasant morning breeze caressed his face and beard, not the deathly ash winds that once threatened to take his eyes and skin.
It felt like all his life had been a bad dream and he was now finally awake.
His almost meditative observation was ruined when a voice reached him from behind "Thought I'd find you here."
Holding back an annoyed grumble, Vasilor turned to his visitor "Abbasel" He gave the Urshilaku a curt nod and then faced his companion "Hag."
Rawia the Wise Woman scoffed "The land is as blessed as the very heavens and yet you remain a sour little shit." Her eyes shone with snide mockery "Why am I not surprised?"
"Please have your lovers spat where others cannot see it." The scratchy voice of Ashkhan Rasidor of the Ahnemussa cut their spat off, the ancient Mer sounding downright youthful as he did for the past days "You ruin our people's blessing with your bickering."
Rawia turned oddly silent at the venerable elf's command and Vasilor felt compelled to do much the same.
"What a merry little band we make." The ever-slimy voice of Gilor of the Zainab joined them, the merchant chief grinning widely as all eyes went to him "Rejoice my friends for my scouts have just come back with news!" He rubbed his hands eagerly.
"Come now my firend!" Abbasel clapped him on the back "Tell us what they found!"
Barely keeping himself from being bawled over, the merchant winced "No need to be so aggressive you whippersnapper, not all of us are made of rock."
"That or you are just particularly weak" Vasilor crossed his arms and scoffed.
"Up yours, ashhead" The merchant flipped him off and promptly preempted any retort "My boys just saw a group of some four hundred warriors in the distance, dozens of Dagoth banners above them too."
"So he finally comes" Rasidor muttered ominously.
"Lady Azura has been silent ever since I gave the young Mer his task." The Wise Woman spoke up "That the scouts can see further than a few dozen steps tells us all we need to know."
"Agreed." Abbasel grinned "We must prepare to honor he who so honored us and gave us all eternal succor!"
Vasilor held back a growl of annoyance, he did not like the rise of the Dagoth but he was also no honorless cur that spat on the blessing his people were given "What is our plan then?" He asked.
"Plan?" Gilor chuckled snidely "We do as we are told of course."
The bluntness of his words annoyed his fellow Ashkhan's something fierce but what annoyed them even more was the fact they could find no true retort to his words. Their people were saved, and now it was time to do as they are bid.
Eternal dishonor would go to any who went against it.
Thus agreed without a word being uttered, all five greater leaders of the Ashlanders who no longer dwelt in ash stood at the entrance of the Old Home and awaited patiently, even as their people gathered around them with curiosity in their eyes and excitement in their hearts.
An hour passed and then two, and when time came upon the third finally the horizon shifted and black banners were seen fluttering in the distance.
Vasilor, being the most keen sighted of the lot, immediately recognized the supposed 'Darhashin' tribe and scowled upon seeing them, drawing the attention of the rest.
Rawia realized it next and chuckled "I always did find the entire 'secret tribe' idea to be ridiculous, but my lady said they were to be left alone."
"Bah!" Vasilor scoffed loudly "Dishonorable but not forbidden." And oh how bitter he felt saying those words.
(Reyvin's POV)
I will be the first to admit that we took our sweet time moving southwest, my entourage being almost sluggish in their movements as they admired their restored homeland.
Nerevar, who decided to tag along while keeping his helmet on for the most part and pretending to be one of my bodyguards, was just as stunned as the rest of them.
He had seen these lands so many times it isn't even funny and the change struck him much harder than anyone else.
Not that I could blame any of them as I already noticed tiny mushrooms beginning to sprout all over the place and very small numbers of insects ever so slowly populate the lands, it was like looking at dead land awakening, which admittedly was not that far from the truth.
Which is why when we reached Ald'ruhn some two days later than planned, I could only smile wryly at the group of Ashlander leaders standing at the head of the collective nomad population of the island.
Well over twenty thousand elves when all gathered, a relatively small number on a wider scale but still one that would be relevant in the future.
"Greetings kinsmen!" My voice carried well beyond the furthest point of the city "A blessedly lovely day we are having is it not?" I may or may not have put just a tiiiny bit of my Ehlnofey aura into the spell, causing a massive portion of them to lower their heads.
It took me half a minute more to reach them fully and the quintet waiting for me were staring at me with anything between irritation, greed, and outright reverence in the case of the Urshilaku and the Ahnemussa.
"Lord Dagoth" The Wise Woman approaches first "For the peace of mind of all, would you enlighten us as to what happened with Red Mountain and its baleful gaze?"
Theatrics it is then! "That which once cursed us all by my hand now blesses the land!"
My response caused immediate excited shuffling in the massive crowd.
"Rejoice, my kinsmen!" I spread my arms wide "No longer will you hunger, and no longer will your very homes try and kill or starve you!" The sole Ashkhan I did not meet looked like he understood what I was doing but did not try and stop me.
"Under the blessing and guidance of the Good Daedra I faced the Four Corners of the Troubled House and came out unscathed!" I did not stop moving forward as I spoke, and neither did I remove my aura "With might of the Psijik I stood before the core of Red Mountain and stared upon our tormentor! And in the end it was not I that flinched, but the mountain itself!"
"So have I honored you... my kinsmen." My voice lowers yet it still carries just as far as I lower my hands and fold them behind me "And so shall you honor me."
Their leaders all close their eyes in understanding and I issue my first command "Now KNEEL." The authority in my voice, born of both power and state of being has all hold their breath.
A silent moment passes before the first awed elf proclaims "Great Ashkhan!" Soon joined by numerous other voices as one by one the elves knelt to their new overlord.
One by one the Ashkhans accepted the ad hoc vote and soon I had an entire culture bowing to me.
Today was a good day.
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I found myself seated in the grand hall of Ald'ruhn, accompanied solely by the still utterly silent Anondor and the four Ashkhans and Wise Woman.
Content to wait for them to gather themselves I leaned back in my seat and enjoyed a delightfully flavorful dose of magihuana, I did just overturn their whole world so I guess they couldn't really be blamed.
"Awfully bold what you did." The Erabenimsun Ashkhan is the first to speak up "Taking our choice from us like that..."
"Taking your choice away?" I raise an eyebrow "Your people decided, did they not?"
He scoffs but doesn't retort.
For whatever reason, the Wise Woman looked distinctly happy with this turn of events.
"What are your plans, my lord?" Gilor of the Zainab asks, the shady oil merchant was already plotting how to best capitalize on this turn of events and any information I gave him would inevitably be used to make his tribe prosper.
Fair is fair.
"Rather straightforward really" I straighten in my seat "I will be going to Old Ebonheart where the Great Lords of Morrowind are currently staying, and I will do as I did here. Do not take this the wrong way but I did not come to Vvardenfell just to secure the loyalty of your tribes."
"They are your tribes now as well, my lord" The ancient Ahnemussa smiles kindly "Just as the Great Houses will be your house once you are Hortator."
The Erabenimsun's eyes widen and he exhales a snort "You don't do things by half measures, do you?"
"Never" I grin "A Conclave was already held before I came here, Red Mountain tormented the whole of Morrowind, and not just Vvardenfell. Once I saved our futures, I swore to lead our people into glory as well, I do not plan on breaking that promise."
"So what is it that you wish of us?" The Urshilaku asks with an eager grin "Shall we march out and join you in retaking the lands of our kinsmen?"
"If you so choose." I smirk at the excited Ashkhan "The armies are already prepared and morale is no doubt soaring right now, it would be folly not to take back what once was ours." I pause and turn serious "However, before that I have other commands for the tribes."
All five of them turn just as serious and wait for me to speak.
"Your nomadic lifestyle has been useful until now" I raise a finger to forestall any protests "Which is why I want you to resettle Ald'ruhn and rebuild the city to honor our ancestors, the time has come for you all to set some roots, and for your children to grow up in prosperity."
Had anyone else uttered what I just did they would have probably gotten stabbed to death by the usually inflexible Ashlanders in an instant, but I was both Prophet and King, ordained and elected. They would follow, or their people would find someone else who would.
Rasidor frowns "But... we have travelled for thousands of years..."
"And all roads lead to some destination, old one" I offer the confused old man a gentle smile.
He lets out a long sigh before slowly nodding.
"The Good Daedra sent you to us for a reason, or so I wish to believe" Rawia speaks up "If they trust in your judgement, who are we to question?"
And so all other protests were snuffed out.
We spoke for many hours and well into the night and upon the following morning an army of some three thousand Ashlanders marched out with my own small force, all of them traveling south to what was once the city of Vivec.
But I was not with them, for instead of further wasting time on walking, Savos, Anondor, Akulakhan, Vayrin, and myself took to the skies atop Scorch and Brightburn, flying straight to Old Ebonheart, even as Scorch mocked his fellow firebird with his ascension the entire way there.
What an absolute cunt.
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We landed in the middle of the fortified keep the house lords were staying at, the sight of proper civilization making me wish to hug the paved ground.
Not that I did of course, no matter how much I wanted to.
The guards who noticed us grew panicked for a moment and raised their weapons... only to immediately lower them after one look from yours truly and bow their heads.
Without bothering to acknowledge them further, my posse and I marched into the large Dres keep, the gates opening on their own one after another before their protectors could so much as touch them.
Already I was hearing a commotion spreading behind me but that was for later me to deal with.
The scene repeated a few times, each one making my steps just slightly more bold than they were moments ago and soon I found myself stepping into a grand throneroom housing all five Great Lords and Davos as my representative.
They were joined by a trio of priests, a robed Priestess of Azura, a heavily scarred Redoran bearing Boethian iconography on his armor, and an androgynous looking masked elf bearing the distinct equipment of the Morag Tong.
'The Grandmaster themselves, if I am not wrong.'
A beat of silence passed as my eyes slowly met each and every one of the room's occupants, all of them looking at me with the same eyes as the Ashkhans but with far greater gravitas in their backbones.
Vayrin's breath hitched as he understood what was about to happen, making me hold back a chuckle.
The first to speak was the Priestess of Azura "Hail, Lord Dagoth, Blessed Champion of Azura."
The Redoran veteran was next "Hail, Lord Dagoth, walker of the path."
Third was the Grandmaster, but all they did was ever so slightly incline their head.
Holding back a chuckle at the cheeky Mephalan, I moved my gaze to Davos, who looked at me like I had just reaffirmed an old resolution of his. As if I had just proven him unequivocally right in his life choices and his decision to follow me all over again.
Still, some things would never change as he knelt and greeted me with a simple "Boss."
The other five remained silent for a long while, exchanging glances between each other before coming to a silent agreement.
With a look of genuine happiness and respect, Sadras Sindrel spoke "House Sadras recognizes the deeds of Lord Dagoth." And knelt.
Next came the Telvanni, and Baladas openly scoffed before he too knelt, his voice as dry as a desert as he intoned "House Telvanni recognizes the might of Lord Dagoth."
I didn't bother hiding an eyeroll. He was probably just as annoyed by the pageantry as I was.
"House Indoril" A familiar voice intones, and I am forced to raise a surprised eyebrow as Alandro Indoril is the one speaking "Recognizes the piety of Lord Dagoth." He kneels.
Varan Sarano stares me right in the eyes as he speaks "House Redoran recognizes the honor of Lord Dagoth" He too kneels.
And last, and potentially not least? Aneris Dres falls under the peer pressure and she too speaks "House Dres recognizes the dominion of Lord Dagoth." And kneels.
The short ritual thus complete, all of them stood up and intoned "Hail Lord Dagoth Reyvin, Hortator of Morrowind!"
All according to plan.
(General POV)
Within the White Gold Tower, a messenger nearly collided with a suddenly alert guard as he rushed to the inner council chambers of Emperor Titus Mede II of Tamriel, practically bursting into the room and interrupting what looked to be a rather tense and heated debate between all of the council members and the yet secret Crown Princess.
All eyes went to the messenger, every single one of them all too eager to leave the discussion about the next meeting of the Elder Council for later.
"What is it?" Titus Mede asked, not at all annoyed by the sudden breather.
"A message from Morrowind, your majesty." The young man bowed his head further "A guardsman of House Dagoth just delivered it to the Pennitus Occulatus."
"Bring it here" The Emperor commands and immediately unfolds the letter, ignoring the grubby hands of his heiress with a practiced dexterity borne of many, many meetings.
Minthara crossed her arms with a huff "What does it say?"
Titus grinned widely and let out a merry bout of laughter a moment later before once more folding the scroll and looking at his assembled council "It would seem that Morrowind has just elected their new Hortator."
The group of councilors were dumbstruck for a moment before the true meaning of the words hit them and all of them started patting each other on the back and grabbing drinks as the dream of a united Tamriel became so much more real.
Minthara on the other hand was already halfway out of the chamber, her Orb™ already glowing within her hand and an eager skip in her step.
Truly, Titus thought, today was a very good day to be Emperor.
