Savlow hoisted his hammer high into the air above; with one mighty blow a shockwave radiating the entire cabin erupts in sound and ear splitting tones. The magical contact of the hammer reacts to the coarse Deadric alloy; sparks are thrown flying like a nuclear explosion of spectral colours. Just a single spark passes Savlow's eye, small enough to be unseen but powerful enough to consume all matter of existence…..That was the final time the magically enhanced hammer manipulated fine metals.
The lonely stray spark, acting like a supernova sun soared from the distance of the metal, to the log burner in the far corner, on contact it exploded in an angry fusion of pain and evil. The single spark bored into the centre of an Emberbark, the weakest wood in the local area of Lithium's Landing. It took only three, long… heart stopping seconds for the fireplace and all above it to be engulfed in savage flames. Savlow's eyes became soulless as the fire grew and he recalled the worry he originally created within himself at the start of this delicate task.
Flames flickered and spat, with hissing and screaming, to any other Nord this fire would be alive; comparable to the pure evil spirits of Deadric monsters the metallic element was created for. A rogue flame struck the arm of Savlow creating a crevice of black and purple flesh in his forearm, blood seeped into the floorboards below. Savlow did not scream neither did he flinch; the flame that struck him was filled with corruption, not pain.
The soulless eyes turned from empty to midnight black, an oozy substance travelled from the wound into his veins, straight into an impenetrable, no longer, warm heart. Savlow's mind met the start of an exhausting battle with the enemy of Consciousness, a battle which would determine the life of himself and others.
The fight that felt nearly 10 years but only took 10 seconds in reality was won as well as lost. Savlow maintained the vision in his eyes but lost the control of his body. Now all Savlow could do is watch and wait as prisoner for the evil inside, to create as much havoc as the Deadric Prince of Destruction would command him to.
Smoke and flames came out of hiding from the roof of the house, it was impossible to stop a fire of this magnitude from being seen, even if the Deadric spirit wanted to. Riften Guards on patrol through Lithium first spotted the fire and rushed to aid anyone around the cabin. The guards were stopped just as they started, by the Jarl. "This is the cabin of Savlow the smithy" he said. "One day this was bound to happen, some would even say Fate".
Truth is told that Savlow was the fastest, accurate and masterful blacksmith in all of Tamriel and Skyrim. Even the smiths of Morrowind are in league with the mighty Nord qualities. The next command the Jarl gave, stunned everyone within earshot. "I want 10 archers lined up outside the door of the cabin and my House Thane ordered here immediately!"
….Darkness engulfed the room; as the flames turned black and the smoke was absorbed by what at first looked like a Nord but now could only be described as an essence of pure hate. Savlow's body cracked and hardened into a charcoal like state which crumbled onto the braised floor beneath him. At this point Savlow was crying inside but could not show it, his eyes still more fiery and black than the depths of hell. The demonic form lifted a charred talon to the door handle but it burned within seconds of touch. Instead the monster released a jagged smile and burst through the cabin door like a battle ram through a gate.
