Rastislav
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Arc 7 Chapter XLII: Gauld Digging
🕑 Added 2024-06-14 01:07:07 +0000 UTCA/n: Increased the construct's height by a meter in last chapter
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"What, no indignant accusations?" I ask the specter as the silence stretches.
He stares at me for a while yet and then finally speaks in a scratchy rasp of a voice "Why have you disturbed my resting place, elf?" Every word was met with a pause as the remnant of Gauldur's ego attempted to collect itself.
"A bit of learning experience actually." I grin and summon the three fragments of his amulet. He shows no immediate reaction so I go on "Well that, and a bit of a question."
He evaluates me briefly before inclining his head ever so slightly "Ask your question."
My grin disappears as my eyes narrow "Why were there a bunch of innocent souls imprisoned in this place?"
"Imprisoned?" He seems almost confused before shaking his head "Protected."
"Protected?" I parrot "From what?"
His tone turns almost reverent "World eater... soul eater."
"Alduin?" I tilt my head and the specter's eyes widen in fear "I guess that makes sense..."
Although did it really? Gauldur was slain by his sons centuries after Alduin got his ass banished so him still fearing the tantrum throwing divinity was a bit odd... Then again the Nords were a bunch of superstitious idiots on a good day and I could totally see a number of them 'saving' the souls of their servants by making them guard their tombs for an eternity.
"You hold my amulet." The ghost's voice draws me out of my thoughts.
I shrug "Well, the fragments of it at the very least."
"And you have banished my sons beyond Nerne for it." He pauses "Why?"
I fail to hold back a somewhat dickish grin from forming as I repeat "Alduin."
Gauldur recoils in fear, thankfully passing through his coffin instead of embarrassing himself like his sons did "You lie!" He accuses.
"Nope." I do not so much as twitch in response to his reaction "He really has returned."
"And what?" His shoulders square as he takes a more combative stance "Have you come to gather tribute for your draconic master?!" Only now did I realize he was staring at my crown the entire time.
I laugh "I am no dragon priest you old fart." Before he has the time to be properly offended I scoff and turn my crown to a wisp of shadow "I do not plan to offer the cunt tribute, I plan to bring him his death!"
My declaration is charged with such certainty that the ancient enchanter is momentarily stunned, only speaking after his eyes meet mine and he sees the determination within "You speak boldly of acts no mortal may accomplish."
"Acts no mortal did accomplish." I correct with a raised finger "Not acts which no mortal will accomplish."
He turns silent at that, before bursting out into a light chuckle "Very well, at least you have fire young elf. My amulet will aid you on your path."
"Not only your amulet, Archmage Gauldur." I correct him with a greedy smile before pausing in thought "I suppose I have not yet introduced myself, and for that you have my deepest apologies."
The ghost just stares at me as if to say 'get on with it.'
"Archmage Reyvin Dagoth" I offer a fancy bow "The greatest enchanter in the land" I pause for dramatics "And even greater after you teach me all you know."
He goes to protest but I snap my fingers and make the entire runic matrix of my robes visible to the naked eye, completely shutting him up. He tries making heads or tails of my work but soon huffs in irritation "I guess you will do."
And that is how I spent three extra days in a dusty old tomb shittalking an ancient ghost while he taught me his techniques.
Most of Gauldur's techniques were very behind the times, being thousands of years old at this point, but he obviously did something better than everyone if he was still remembered to this day and true to that the discipline he excelled at was efficiency.
He did not make complex enchantments that guzzled massive amounts of power for showy effects and instead hyperfocused on creating the most robust and cost effective artifacts that would never even so much as falter in their function.
This was proved quite blatantly when he simply snapped the parts of the amulet together and sent a burst of power through them, immediately connecting the three fragments into a much grander whole.
Gauldur's work did not add base attributes to a person as much as it stretched them out to their maximum, the series of enchantments working in tandem to basically wring out as much worth as they could out of every 'unit' of power from the bearer, effectively increasing their vitality, endurance, and Magicka by a factor of five.
That is right, a full fucking quintuple increase to someone's many 'juices'! No wonder his sons butchered him over it, that bloody thing was disgustingly powerful.
Definitely something I would replicate before we went to off Alduin as I was already being flooded by ideas of what to do with it, but for now the amulet would go to Minthara. A good way to ensure our literal only hope doesn't die to something stupid like an assassination attempt and I had more than enough Magicka at the moment with my own gear.
Still, I could only spend so much time huddled in a cave discussing squiggly lines with an old man, so it soon came time for me to leave.
"It is a shame you were not born in my times." Gauldur laments "You would have made a potent rival."
I chuckle "Same to you, old man. Remember to eject yourself from this place after two years, the hungry fucker should be dead by then."
"Yes." He chuckles "Your confidence is infectious enough that I am even starting to believe it now, quite foolish of me."
"Enjoy your rest, Gauldur." I wave as I leave.
"And may the gods bless you in your task." The specter bows deeply and disappears.
'Pretty swell guy.' Scorch pretends to not be sad.
I snort 'You only say that because he praised you for your looks.'
Scorch huffs 'A man of discerning tastes as well.'
The moment I stepped out of the cave I immediately took to the skies and headed east, I was already late and the members of the expedition, a specific Nord archeologist came to mind, were probably getting agitated by my absence. Best I got there as quickly as I could lest a justifiably racist Falmer decided to just cave the whole thing.
Speaking of angry Falmer, I do wonder what Davos was doing...
(General POV, eastern mountains of the Rift)
A small orcish holdfast was up in arms as all the warriors within were rushing through its many halls, roaring in anger and cursing at the intruder who had entered their vaults and almost managed to disappear without them even knowing if not for their shaman's wards.
A masked Dunmer in light armor slinked past multiple patrols, sticking close to the many objects tossed haphazardly all over the place by its residents. His head turned behind him as he heard a commotion coming from that direction, he went to dash forward but another commotion came from there as well.
Deciding that a fight would be problematic here he quickly scaled the perfectly flat walls and soon found himself sticking to the ceiling, staring at the two groups of orcs who had entered the hall mere moments later.
"Anything on your end Bark?" The leader of the ones who came from behind barked out.
"Nothing 'ere Gark." His... 'brother?' shook his head "Maybe if you weren't so busy rutting like a whelp whose balls finally dropped you'd have actually done yer job and guarded the fuckin' vault!"
Bark immediately grew agitated and got into his relative's face "Who says it was my job?! Maybe you should have paid some fucking attention yourself!" He shoves Gark and the two start to push against each other, with their goons cheering at the upcoming fistfight.
Sadly for the elven infiltrator it would seem luck was not on his side, as before he could slink away in the noise Gark managed to get a good punch on his brother's face, sending him sprawling on the ground and knocking out a tusk in the process.
Before the fight could continue Bark's eyes widened as he pointed up "THERE 'E IS! GET 'IM!"
All of the orcs looked up and the elf decided to stop bothering with subtlety as he let himself fall and swiftly showed a pair of daggers into the eyes of a duo of particularly slow orcs.
Before the rest could react, he barelled through another unfortunate greenskin, slashing his throat and throwing him at his friends. As a pair went to dogpile him, he surprised them by running on the side of the wall and jumping over them, rewarding them for their effort by blasting their faces with a cone of fire.
All of the orcs started converging on the source of the commotion and the elf was quickly forced into running away faster and faster, finally dashing through another turn and stopping as he realized he had just moved into a dead end.
He only had enough time to turn around as a mass of orcs rushed through the doors of what he quickly realized was an emptied out pantry. Having no time to draw his crossbow, the elf unclasped two bundles of leather tied to his pants, revealing rows upon rows of deadly throwing knives.
And then he started throwing.
The elf's hands moved in a blur as orcs started falling before him like so much wheat in front of a scythe. Such was his skill that with each throw he would hit the throat or eye if the orc was wealthy or lucky enough to have the other protected.
But all things must end, and so did the elf's supply of blades. Just in time for a heavily armored figure to enter the room, clad fully in orichalc plate, the orcish chieftain towered over his kin as he glared at the huffing elf, two familiar bodies sprawling in front of him, having come closest to reaching him.
The chieftain roared "You kill Zark's sons! You die!"
The elf cursed as he was forced to leap away 'All this for a piece of metal.' He parried a wide axe swing by moving into the blow and redirecting it, killing its momentum and giving him an opening to try and kill the chief before the rest dogpiled him.
Sadly the orichalcum armor was not for show, and all it took the massive orc to survive the attack was a mere tilt of his head as he managed to catch the dagger between his helm and gorget, tossing it away with a snarl.
The elf dodged once again, losing his other dagger as he was forced to block a glancing blow. He tried blasting his foe's head with a firebolt but he was too close and simply moved out of the way, he did not even bother trying flames here as the magically rich material would just deflect them.
In a desperation, the elf grabbed the tiny shard of metal and tossed it at the chief's eyes as he went for an overhead swing, expecting to distract him and give himself space to make some distance.
What he definitely did not expect was the shard glowing an ominous read and then promptly exploding the massive Zark's head into so many fine chunks.
Davos blinked and muttered "Yeah, what else did I expect?" Before turning to the remaining orcs, who were slowly stepping away in fear and awe of his massive kill count.
Chuckling darkly, Davos grabbed his enchanted repeating crossbow and slowly aimed it at the group "Now then, why don't the lot of us play a fun little game?" He grinned, sending shivers down the spines of all of them.
None survived the 'game'.
(Reyvin's POV)
'Eh, I am sure he is having fun in any case.' I shrugged the thought away and sped up to my destination.
-----
It was night by the time I finally arrived, landing in the middle of a suddenly alert camp.
It took them mere moments to realize who I was and I was quickly approached by the group's leaders.
Before Katria could speak Edrassa stood in front of her and offered a respectful bow "Welcome, my lord. We feared something happened after not getting any words for two entire days."
"Did you just wish misfortune upon me lady Moabain?" I ask with a light smirk.
Her eye twitches "Of course not, I would never dare even think of it." She lied perfectly.
"True, true, it would be rather idiotic." I outright grin now, but before the threat can make her properly scared I go on "Apologies for my lateness I found myself captivated by a bit of archeology work that could not be delayed. I trust that the expedition is prepared?" I ask.
Before Edrassa can answer, the ever excitable Katria almost barells her over as she gets into quite dangerous range of my face "OH, what did you find? Was it another Dwemer ruin?" Her words spill out as if she were a rodent full of caffeine.
Edrassa and her Falmer companion both facepalm at this.
Damn, I heard she was... a bit off, but this was much even by my standards.
Deciding that rudeness is the better part of valor here I simply looked back to Edrassa "Excellent, I will take a nap and we can begin in the morning." And walked away as soon as I finished speaking, making sure to keep the Nord in place with telekinesis as I did.
I ain't dealing with that crap.
Comments
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
Speide Hardy
Thanks for the chapter
