Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 384: Chapter IV: The Grand Reception



(General POV)

Lady Isabella of the Vampirum Order of Cyrodiil took another slow sip of blood wine as her thrall continued his tales. She was half tempted to tell him how utterly ridiculous some of his contacts' claims sounded but held her tongue for now as she had long since learned that even overblown rumors would have kernels of truth to them.

"Is that young Roland I see there?" Her eyes narrowed as she carelessly interrupted her servant with a raised hand "Last I heard he was too busy wasting his time watering the ground of Bruma with goblin blood to do anything else."

"He must have been intoxicated by tales of glory." Ioannes dutifully suggests as the large column of legionaries and warriors slowly becomes visible to his mortal eyes "The man may be more Nord than Imperial in his aspirations but even he is not foolish enough to miss this kind of opportunity."

The vampire let out a light hum and gave her thrall a slight nod "An acceptable rationalization. Or it would be if he were not so visibly deferring to that red haired child." "The Dragonborn?" The olive skinned Imperial asked "That could prove dangerous..."

"Or Titus has decided to play at horse racing while the rest of us thought he was playing dice." Isabella thought aloud, partly amused and partly concerned, such changes were never pleasant to the monotony-loving order of vampires and she was no different "It is better to be safe than sorry, so mark her influence potential up."

"Above the elf?" Ioannes asked slowly.

"Not just yet." Isabella hummed "She may be powerful, so much that I can even feel it from here, but her influence seems limited to some few dozen beast slayers and a fearsome reputation."

Ioannes shuffled on his feet for a moment, long enough for his mistress to turn on him with a raised eyebrow and signal for him to go on. He bowed his thanks and spoke, even if hesitantly "I believe this may be unwise, my lady."

"Fear not child." She smiled at him hypnotically "I would not employ advisors if I was adverse to advice."

"Of course." The grown-ass man bowed again "The Nords value reputation above everything, and there is no greater reputation than being a hero of legend. I would not be surprised if most of the holds went to war simply because she called."

"I forget how different the Nords can be." Isabella admitted with only a bit of hesitation "Very well pet, note your thoughts down. It wouldn't do for the Ancients to be misinformed." She said with a 'suffering' sigh.

Which was a signal to pointedly hide anything of actual value he could, Ioannes realized. The order was rife with politicking and his mistress would do her utmost to come out on top in the coming turmoil.

'If we survived.' The stray thought struck the thrall but he exorcized it just as quickly, thinking he was simply tired.

The loud noise of the legionary march soon reached the inn they were perched on, the perfect lockstep of their armored boots only lightly broken up by the careless gait of the northerners only for itself be drowned out by the downright pedantic march of the armored elves.

The Nords were not terribly odd to look upon, their arms and armor were typical to what Ioannes learned of Skyrim if only of the highest reasonable quality available to them, but the elves... the elves were a whole different story.

Each and every one of them looked to be armed and armored in equipment worthy of a knight of middling wealth, their weapons seeming both uniform and distinct to the thrall's eyes as each wave of the wind sent triangular black and purple banners fluttering in the air. Even his mistress seemed impressed for a moment, the expression swiftly snuffed out by centuries of training and experience.

Then came the heroes of the day, all of them mounted and positioned between their footbound subordinates, and all of them looking thoroughly unique in their own rights.

To say that the crowds went wild as the same saviors of the world named by the town criers throughout the entirety of Cyrodiil appeared before them would have been the understatement of the era.

"I had thought the tales of Falmer were just that." Ioannes admitted quietly, though loudly enough to be heard by the only person that mattered "To revive an entire race..."

"While impressive they are of little consequence and will remain as such for centuries more." Isabella waved the admittedly impressive bit of confirmation off "They are no more powerful than any other elf and serve only to bring prestige to their master."

"As you say, my lady." Ioannes bowed "I would still recommend gathering as much as we can on them lest they prove a hidden threat..." He paused briefly "They were said to worship the sun in the texts I was able to procure."

Isabella paused and nodded, rising her thrall in her estimations ever so slightly due to the sudden twang of fear in her back "Do so." He may be worthy of getting turned after all.

The centurial vampire's eyes moved on from the entourage to the heroes themselves, resting once more on the red-haired demigod awkwardly riding what looked to be one of the rowdiest steeds she had ever seen. The image would have been amusing if not for the veritable torrent of power she could feel just barely held back behind a youthful exterior.

She wore gleaming steel plate, though the vampire doubted it was simple steel, and had a hammer tied to her horse's saddle that radiated just as much danger as its supposed wielder. She could also feel something even more powerful hanging around the young woman's neck but could not see exactly what.

If this woman wanted her and this entire district dead, she would not be able to do anything but watch helplessly. Isabella found she hated the thought with a passion.

"What do we know of her?" she asked aloud instead, it was best to know how to avoid the force of nature if you could not tame it.

"Brash, arrogant, powerful." Ioannes listed simply "A surprising knack for leadership and tactics with a streak of cunning most simply gloss over due to the sheer weight of her presence." The thrall looks up to his master "A possible target for seduction?"

"No." Isabella dismissed the idea immediately "Too dangerous and she seems to be riding just a bit too close to her fellow 'godslayer' to risk it."

"Of course." Ioannes accepted the decision as one did the setting of the sun, as if he did not just propose manipulating a young woman under the control, both magical and not, of an ancient order of bloodsuckers.

And then finally, Isabella's eyes settled on the elf riding beside the young woman, and she felt all her hairs go up in fear as she felt... absolutely nothing from the figure.

He was tall, taller than most Dunmer and so much so he could fit in into a group of Altmer without any issue. He wore full plate armor made of enough ebony to buy a small city which was then covered in a magnificent robe meshed with the god crystal perfectly. A red sash with black writing in old Nordic woven into it fit perfectly into the ensemble, clashing just enough to bring out the rest of the outfit.

He bore no weapons on him save for the rather sharp points of his gauntlets, likely sharp enough to cut through steel with an alteration spell to boost his strength, Isabella concluded with some conventional knowledge of magic. 'Unless he went mad with power and drowned himself in rituals' The vampire noted but doubted the idea as he did not seem ridden with deformities.

In fact, the young elf looked as handsome as someone descended from the wastes of Morrowind could ever hope to, with long dark black hair accentuated by a single thin Nordic braid in a purple string on the left side of his face, the nod to his northern allies was accompanied by a long scar no doubt purposefully left there as a personal choice. A neat goatee adorned the bottom of his suspiciously timeless face, and a pair of red eyes emitting a constant glow completed the image of someone both incredibly young and incredibly

powerful.

A pair of eyes that was currently being directed straight at Isabella.

A sense of danger began building up within the vampire's mind but before she could understand what it meant the Dunmer Lord's eyes met with hers, flashing a far too bright red, the words "I see you" carving themselves into her psyche as she physically recoiled away from the sight, her back hitting the wall behind her and outright denting it under the sudden force. "My lady!" Ioannes jumped into action immediately, a potion of healing already in his hand as he rushed to help her.

But a raised hand stopped him, his mistress slowly getting up on her own as tears of blood

marred her face. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath "I will live" She whispered hoarsely even as she felt the telltale burn of sun magic under her skin "That was just a

warning."

The Imperial found himself trembling, both in fear of the elf and in fear of losing his mistress. Had she died he would have followed her immediately, there was no point in living

without her.

"Ioannes" Isabella spoke after a moment, quickly drawing his attention "I want you to

investigate the death of Legate Vyren as swiftly as you are able. It would do to ensure my... observation is not perceived as an insult."

Her teeth were definitely not gritted but by Sanguine she wanted to break them with how

terrified she was.

(Reyvin's POV)

'Fucking amateurs' I let out a huff through my nostrils and focused back to the platform laid

out in the square in front of us.

'Want me to burn the cunts?' Scorch asks with just a tad too much eagerness in his voice.

I send a mental pat on his head 'Soooon.'

"Someone you didn't like?" Minthara asked lightly, able to detect the sudden surge of illusion magic in the air on sheer instinct.

"Just someone arrogant enough to show their face even if they shouldn't." I roll my eyes "I expected them to be more... cautious considering our previous correspondence." Then again there were another six pairs of eyes on us at all times, all of them carrying the telltale hunger

of a vampire.

The only reason I targeted the wench on the balcony was that she was far more powerful than the rest and was far more blatant in her ogling. It would do to make a good first impression

and all that.

And the way she was scrambling to buy my good will was amusing, so who knows? If she didn't fuck up I may even not stake her out in the sun for the fucking gall of thinking she could

influence us.

"Ignore them for now" The rather gleeful demigoddess waved the issue away "We are here to be celebrated! Just listen to how the m-" She swiftly clears her throat "Imperials are praising us." Another cheer erupted to our right and I saw her puff her chest in pride.

"Your disdain for the mortals aside." I snort as her face reddens "It looks like Titus has finally decided to show himself."

"We are ready to establish a perimeter, Muthsera." Jackal appears next to my horse and bows

lightly. "Just follow along Titus' plans for now." I whisper with a wave of magic so the sound could reach the agent's ears "There is no need to show our hands too quickly."

He bowed and disappeared.

The legionaries accompanying us, under the leadership of the far too jolly General who just

couldn't stop asking about his 'glorious brave little boy', swiftly began opening up the path to the grand square, pushing the crowd away gently but firmly and letting us march in.

The scene that awaited us was Titus Mede the II standing atop a great wooden platform, surrounded on all sides by the Pennitus Occulatus, all of whom were clad in heavy armor and were currently keeping the tens of thousands of commoners away from rushing up to us. Our own followers marched out into the empty space and quickly organized themselves into formation, the Nords looking far more relaxed than my own people but I would not begrudge them that, they were a rowdy bunch and knew how to fight with discipline when it mattered. As our entourage rode in Titus rose his hand and most of the crowd quietened down, the few

of those too mentally deficient to shut their gobs quickly getting it done for them by their

fellows.

"Thank you." Titus spoke softly with a lightly amused expression on his face, yet his voice carried across the entire square as if he was right next to us.

Minthara and I rode in front of the group, both of us dismounting in the blink of an eye and

stepping in front of the Emperor of Tamriel, our heads lowering in a respectful bow before the old man "My Emperor." We both spoke clearly and loudly.

I could see the act rankling Minthara's pride a bit but all I could do was feel amused at then/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

theatre, as a bunch of the nobles accompanying the emperor from below the platform seemed to visibly relax at our 'supplication'.

"Rise." Titus spoke with a smile "Those who would save our world and our lives need not bow before anyone but those they choose themselves." A bunch of the nobles grew outraged while another bunch looked at the old man with respect, as we had in their eyes retroactively chosen

to bow before him of our free will.

"Fucking Theatre." I couldn't help but mutter with a snort and just loudly enough for the

Emperor and Minthara to hear me.

His eyes twinkled with further amusement as he spoke again, this time far louder than before "Lady Minthara Dragonbane of Solitude." His voice carried the weight of a veteran commander "And Lord Reyvin of Great House Dagoth." He gave us both respectful nods as he named us "Be welcomed into Cyrodiil, and into our imperial domain as honored guests." We both bowed again but rose on our own.

"Your deeds in the service of the Emprie are great and many in number. So great are they that I

could recount them for hours should I wish to." He continued as was agreed upon, presenting all our deeds as if we had done them together "From the destruction of the misguided Stormcloak rebellion, foolish belligerents hoping to use Mighty Talos as an excuse to gain power. To the slaying of the vampires of the north, who desired to blot out the sun in an

eternal night!"

Something which the crowd had never heard of, going by their sudden panic and swift increase in gratitude.

"Your might stopped an invasion of the Forsworn, cutting them down to size and finally beginning their integration into the civilized world, and your cunning uncovered the ruins of Blackreach, wrestling the ancient wealth of the Dwemer from their unfeeling servants." His eyes met mine "You have even undone a great injustice done to the world in more foolish

times, and have brought the Falmer, ancient snow elves of Skyrim, back from the curse they were forced to languish under for thousands of years."

"But most importantly." His voice softened "When Alduin the World Eater, prophesized to

consume the world and everyone in it, descended upon the skies of Nirn once more from his banishment, you did not stand idle and wait for him to ravage the lands!"

"No! You fought him and his ilk with all your might! You brought the people of Skyrim together and with legionary and housecarl at your back you struck against the ancient cult of

the dragons, charging into Aetherius itself without fear for yourselves and slaying the vile beast in Sovengarde, home of ancient heroes!"

"So tell me, your humble Emperor, oh mighty Godslayers." He bowed to us and the crowd went wild "What boon would you request for this grand a deed?" The crowd hushed just as quickly, all of them too eager to hear our voices.

As agreed, I was the first to speak, my purpose to sound just slightly greedy and disdainful of non-Dunmer "The Dunmer were left to fend for themselves in the Oblivion Crisis, abandoned by the empire in their greatest time of need as the Red Mountain detonated and the land was

covered in ash." I looked up to him with narrowed eyes "I demand that aid in both food and

builders be sent to Morrowind, and that my people may be aided in restoring their prosperity as members of this Empire."

He seemed to hesitate, once more just as planned, for my assistance to Morrowind was both a

play at the crowd and nobles, and at Morrowind itself "Very well." Titus accepted after a moment "Though it will no doubt hurt the coffers, I will grant you this boon."

"That is all I ask." I nodded tersely, drawing interested eyes from some of the nobles. "And what of you, Dragonborn?" Titus looks away from me "What boon would you request of the Emprie for your mighty deed?"

"When the time comes, and the Thalmor finally show themselves for the foe that they always

were" She spoke firmly and loudly, her sheer presence making her lack of training in oration

not matter one bit "I wish to be the one to strike back against them, and lead our people in reuniting what was once broken!"

"No words could have made me happier." Titus smiled "Granted." And once more the crowd

went insane, many of them trying to bawl over the Pennitus Occulatus guards but were thankfully held back.

"Citizens of our glorious Empire!" Titus' voice thundered, so much so that the crowd calmed

down "I thank you for gathering to welcome our heroes, nay the heroes of all Nirn to your home! May they forever be blessed by the Nine for their deeds!"

A cheer resounded all around us and the Emperor leaned and winked at us "Your manor has

been restored and secured, go and rest a while, there will be much work to be done after

today." Deciding I did not want to deal with the crowd any longer I gave Jackal a quick look and signaled for him to get the troops situated, all the while grabbing Minthara by the shoulder and appearing before a distinctly familiar manor in the Elven Gardens District.

"Well" I mutter, feeling just a tad melancholic "At least no one decided to demolish the damn

thing."

Join the crowd

throw a stone!

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