East of the main chamber in which yet another vampire had met its end in the name of science, Aleximus strode on through another oaken door, which had been left open. A long corridor followed, and was lit by torches and braziers. The first door on the right the genteel necromancer walked right past, as it led to a chamber that functioned as secondary study, library and cynosure. Eventually he came to a small gated room midway between the main door of the fort and the aforementioned chamber. The tiny room contained two antique closets filled with clothes befitting Aleximus' social rank, or at least the rank occupied before he became a necromancer. A very small number of clothes from High Rock remained over the years in any state to be worn, after age, moths and mildew had had at them. These were shunted off to a side, as though kept for sentimental value only. The rest, which he could actually wear out of the fort and into inhabited areas, were acquired through…various channels.
Pulling off his black robe and dumping it into the laundry basket, he rummaged through the clothes in the closets, finally settling on dark brown pants, a long-sleeved white shirt, a tan vest with edges done in gold thread and a dark brown suit jacket. He finished the look with a slightly worn black tie.
Praise the Nine for Agamir, Aleximus thought amusedly. Some poor sod-pun intended-was lying rather more exposed in the…sod. At least, he assumed they were put back in after. Then again, who knew? Maybe some nervous young prentice mage, dabbling in the forbidden arts, would give his lunch money to a grave robber to have the leftover de-accessorized body. …Amateurs…Aleximus would have to give some tips on the subject of corpse acquisition in his handbook.
Satisfied with his look, which he appraised through the use of a full length mirror, more than one quarter of which was gone, and which was desperately dusty, truth be told, he left his spectacles on the tiny coffee table just by the fort's entrance. He pulled open the heavy wooden doors just enough to slip through, rather than slip a disc, and stepped outside.
The sun was already beginning to gather strength in the late morning, though it was still cool outside. The grounds of the fort were barren but for patches or hardy grass and small wildflowers. Vegetation within the dilapidated walls was mostly concentrated in the humble vegetable garden, where the sagely Breton grew cabbages, potatoes and the most gorgeous squashes.
Fort Phalanx consisted of three stories of crumbling off-white masonry, with an outer wall much restored by zombie labor. Skeleton archers patrolled tirelessly on the upper floors, and had sufficient gaps to shoot through. Headless zombies wandered around in mockery of guard dogs. If it came to it, Aleximus had built up a corps (ha) of minions large enough to repel a small contingent of guards. The proportionally high number of liches would also be a powerful defense. This attitude was a hold-over from the days of 'necromancering' in High Rock, where peasants with pitchforks could get nasty.
The ancient well from which the Imperial soldiers, and now one necromancer, drew water still functioned, and was out back, and shielded within a still-standing stone tower. Understandably so, as a well was a precious resource in a siege, and produced a liquid that tasted better than horse blood, that mainstay of besieged soldiers and nobles.
Briefly pausing to admire the moons, which were still just visible in the late morning sky, he set off, and cast a Frost Shield and Restore Fatigue spell on himself as he walked. A sweat would be worked up, make no mistake, though his formidable Restoration skill would see him make good time. Powerful magic was required for him to make the trip on foot, and jogging from his fort to the main road would have seen the end of him without it.
Imagining that a triangle was drawn on the map with the Imperial City, Skingrad and Chorrol as its points, one would find Fort Phalanx almost smack-dab in the centre of it. Rather a bit close to the shrine of Molag Bal. Greater distance from Hackdirt would also have been nice. However, it was a choice location when you considered that it was fairly easy to get to the Red Ring Road if one went due east. There were no dangerous bandit camps and such between the fort and the road, and the Reman rune stone was a useful landmark, roughly marking the half-way point. From the busy Ring Road it was a small matter of hitching a ride on some caravan to Weye, where one was but a bridge away from the Imperial City, and a carriage ride away from Skingrad or Chorrol.
Aleximus was a disciplined caster, with much practice, and kept up a low grade Frost Shield for the three hours of trekking through the forest that it would take to hit the main road. It was actually very close to the fort, really, and it was a wonder that a fortress held by undead horrors was not stumbled upon by wanderers more often.
He reached the roads at last, after several hours of travel by foot. Had he travelled in the direction of Chorrol or Skingrad he would have hit some small settlements, but there were none between him and the Imperial City but Weye. Really, if he had to do this more often he would have definitely invested in a horse. But then again, a horse needs food and exercise, and live animals were not his specialty- very high maintenance, comparatively. Between the veggie patch and the deliveries by courier he had plenty of food, and thus did not rely on grocery trips to the Imperial City to get by. Necromancer couriers delivered food from either Weye or Odiil farm usually. The old Breton was a good tipper from force of habit.
Once he reached the roads though it would only be a matter of time before a merchant caravan or carriage could be waved over and persuaded to carry him, an elderly gent, the rest of the way to Weye and the Imperial City, which would not be far away.
Nearing the cobblestone road though, Aleximus heard some rather strange noises, and saw quite a sight through the trees.
Aleximus was about to break the tree line and begin to go down the grassy slope to the paved road when he saw what had been making the odd sounds he had heard just now. An Imperial Legion soldier was struggling with a spriggan and her bear.
With a cry he slashed at the bear horizontally, cutting its jaw open. As the bear faded away the spriggan finally approached the panting soldier. Its hands glowed red.
The soldier saw the man in the brown clothes approaching, and tried to shout a warning to stay back, but the spriggan had used the distraction to Drain the last of his strength. Crumpling to the ground the Imperial raised his head just in time to see the spriggan glow brightly green, and stop in its tracks. The other man stepped towards. 'Marvelous,' the soldier heard him say, rather in awe. 'Not a scratch!'
The young soldier got up, and began to thank Aleximus. The Breton gent looked oddly at him, and the soldier did not like the appraising gleam in his eyes as he looked up and down the road they were on. Aleximus was nervous. Would he actually dare…Aleximus was weighing his options. The Legionnaire seemed very young, and so would probably be new to patrolling. If he was taken, his superiors would just assume some bandits got him, surely? This would be an unprecedented capture! He had been acquiring subjects exclusively through the Blackwood company for years now. And yet…it was such a perfect opportunity!
The young man seemed about to say something when he too felt the stopping power of Aleximus' Paralysis spell. 'Two birds with one stone!' the Breton exclaimed happily. He waved his hands oddly, and a swirl of purple light appeared a few feet away from the two men, vomiting black smoke as it did so. This scrap of arcane ability had been passed on to him by a Dunmer years past-the mages of Morrowind must be second in their knowledge of magical transportation only to the Sload. It had been banned in the Imperial Province, and Alecimus had only seen it used in Mage's guild halls, and the Arcane University. He had used the spell before, but never for this purpose, for its range was rather limited, and Aleximus was too cautious to take people from off a road. Before now, it seemed.
It was alright, though. The road was clear. They would assume an ambush by bandits, or a bear attack, or whatever other thing that formed part of the patrolling Legionnaire's hazards.
A lich and two skeletons stepped out of the maelstrom. The portal to Fort Phalanx remained open.
'Please take our guests to cells three and ten respectively,' he said, gesturing to the soldier and the spriggan, 'and mind you don't damage the spriggan. I want her root system completely intact, and they're very delicate. And remove the other one's armour and weapons before you put him in the cell, will you? I don't want a repeat of the fiasco we had last year.' The necromancer muttered darkly. Three skeletons destroyed before a lich thought of Paralyzing the prisoner. Aleximus shook his head. He had of course simply raised the skeletons again afterwards, but still…'Yes, yes…' The lich said, before growling at the skeletons. Each one grabbed a captive and dragged them through the portal.
The necromancer was trembling slightly. Had he really just whisked away an actual soldier? Not just some bandit, captured by a third party, or a corpse stolen from some poor man's grave, but a living person? Gods, how many years had it been? Yet…a spriggan would be a wonderful captive, and would prove alchemically useful. And the guard was weakened by battle, alone on the road…While purely opportunistic and thus out of character for the sagely Necromancer, Aleximus reflected that there was no danger of reprisal. The guard was even now probably being dragged into a cell, and that would be the last anyone would hear of him.
Unexpectedly, Aleximus felt himself give a little shudder. Was it because it was a shockingly bold act? Or perhaps because this was the first time he would be causing the death of someone who was not a criminal? For other necromancers this would have been downright blasé, but Aleximus was of uncommon sensitivity. In his heart he wondered if he would wipe the guard's memory and have a courier dump him on the roads later on, when he was back from the Big City.
Aleximus was standing in the middle of the road, sat down for a while. Creating the portal had taken much out of him, for he was no Sload or Dunmer sorcerer, and was not very well practiced with it. Still, it had proven it's usefulness, and he felt smug about having this bit of arcane knowledge. He glanced at his watch, and discovered that it had only been about ten minutes before he turned his head after hearing the clip-clop of hooves. Not unexpected, for wagons would be very common on the roads to the City. A merchant caravan of wagons was coming down towards him at a steady pace. From Cheydinhal, most likely, as the drivers were Dunmer. He would need to take a look at the goods, or listen for their accents, to determine if they were from Morrowind itself. He smoothed down his shirt, and switched off the spells. He waved at the Dunmer guiding the horses. The Dunmer waved back.
Author's Note
So I shifted the second half of this story, but with the additions it is still longer than the original. Gosh, they're really too short.
So anyway in this chapter I refined Aleximus' response to the kidnapping, and removed mention of the mind-reading ability. That was to play a part in the story, but that aspect has been scrapped.
Thought I would clear up exactly how an old man in a suit could conceivably walk to the Imperial City. First of all, Cyrodiil isn't actually too large, and if you make a triangle with Chorrol, Skingrad and the Imperial City you will find that it is no great distance to the main road, where one could catch a ride. With the help of spells, it is more easily conceivable. I might have made him own a horse but that would be too complicated I think, for he lives alone and would probably pay a courier to travel and do things for him most of the time.
I expanded description of his methods of getting food and water all the way out in the wilderness, as well as the fort itself.
Update soon!
PS pardon the mix of American and British spelling. I have yielded to Microsoft Word somewhat, but other times I have a bit more spine.