A/N: I'm treating staves and wands like rifles and handguns. Tradeoff of distance, firepower, load capacity, etc.
Disclaimer: What's Bethesda's is theirs, etc. Stories might not be in chronological order.
WINTERHOLD: BREAKWATER
"No, Skytemple is not a part of the College. That's an old Barrow and some sort of altar up there," said Revyn, nodding at the high break of land north of and behind the College of Winterhold.
"Your lady raid it?" asked Arven.
"Of course."
"Draugr?"
"Draugr lord and skeletons."
Three colorful bundles of wool roughly shaped like Argonians walked back to where Revyn and Arven waited. The three huddled dangerously close over the fire Arven had built while Revyn ladled warmed spice wine into tankards.
"More water here for heavier ships," said Scouts-the-Deep, a black-scaled, three-toed, hornless Argonian. "Building a breakwater would take more effort. The undertow of Pilgrim's Trench is dangerous. We'll know more once we dive in."
"How long did you say it will take to get enchanted gear from the College?" asked Drains-the-Swamp, a green and gold, two-horned, frilled neck Argonian.
"This week I hope. I have an appointment tomorrow with the Enchantments master, Sergius Turrianus. I sent the commission in two weeks ago. Plenty of time I should think."
"I'm getting a headache from the cold and I haven't even gotten my feet wet," complained Fish Breath, Scouts-the-Deep's brother.
Revyn smiled as he listened to them grumble further in Jel. Didn't understand a word. They'd been recommended by Brand-Shei, a Telvanni who'd grown up in Black Marsh after he'd been orphaned during one the Argonian attacks after the Oblivion Crisis and, ironically, adopted by one of the invaders. Drains-the-Swamp was the great-grandson of one of Brand-Shei's egg brothers. He was a wetlands engineer. He brought in Scouts, a deep water explorer, and Fish, water resources development. Revyn wasn't quite sure what those titles meant but Brand-Shei assured him that he'd need them if he wanted to develop any sort of industry for a town whose biggest asset (besides the College) was the waters surrounding it. Trees were scarce so no lumber to spare, much less sell. Mining was difficult and there was too much potential to run into Falmer. Hunting was fine for subsistence but there wasn't enough to grow an industry of it.
The Argonians were used to tropical waters and only the challenge of a totally new terrain and a trail of gold had lured them so far north. But right now they needed those heat enchantments and the items in Revyn's current stock weren't strong enough to keep the Argonians from freezing their scales off. His wife wasn't available to do the enchanting so he'd sent the job to the College.
The Khajiit gate guard for the College escorted him to the antechamber of the Hall of Elements and left him there to go search for the master Enchanter.
There were a few students engaged in lobbing destruction spells at crystal targets the pool room of the Hall of Elements. He wandered to the majicka pool in the center of the great chamber and stared meditatively into the shallow bowl filled by a heavy mist of blue energy. A column of blue light went from the pool all the way to the ceiling and presumably beyond. The well tapped into Aetherius and filtered energies into Mundus. Strange how light sounded like the hollow roar of wind. He dipped his hand in and swirled it around in the mist. It moved like water, felt like nothing.
Pretty soon his hand was feeling nothing and the nothingness was soaking up towards his elbow. He pulled the flesh and bone lump and tried to shake some feeling back into it. It was alarming how cold the affected limb felt to the touch. The pain of returning sensation was horrible.
"Revyn! Upon my word, it's good to see you again."
Revyn turned around, grimacing. "Master Tol-, ow, Tolfdir, g-, good to see you also."
Tolfdir grinned at seeing the way Revyn was rubbing his arm. Some of the students behind him also grinned letting Revyn know this was a common occurence. Tolfdir sent a student to fetch a bottle that would help numb the pain. No magic healing because the arm was already suffering from magicka overload so chemicals would have to suffice.
Tolfdir promised to meet later for dinner and then Revyn went back to the antechamber where the Enchantments Master, Sergius Turrianus, had arrived. He had a sack of items for the Argonians. The warmth enchantments were exceptionally strong with additional perks for endurance because, as Sergius explained, the tides around Winterhold were strong and the undertow in certain areas deadly. Using the staff enchanter the Arch-Mage had imported from Solstheim, Sergius had developed a way to double-enchant staves and had found ways to create conveniently sized wands almost as powerful in their own way as staves.
Revyn appropriately expressed awe and gave warranted praise. For a long time Sergius Turrianus and the College of Winterhold had a sort of monopoly on creating enchanted items in Skyrim. Revyn's wife had sliced into the College's business, but she was an erratic producer being an adventurer first. Still, she posed some healthy competition and challenge to Sergius.
Former Arch-Mage Savos Aren, now residing on Solstheim, managed to persuade the Telvanni Mage-Lord Neloth to sell the College a staff enchanter. That, coupled with the rediscoveries of ancient enchantments of First Era Mages Gaulder and Ahzidal, Sergius had determinedly fought his way back as Skyrim's premier enchanter. Most the College's routine cash income business of enchanting was now being handled by eager students the College had recruited for him. The primary benefit to the College was that now that he wasn't the sole cash-cow he could focus on research, and he was becoming more pleasant to be around and less the over-exhausted curmudgeon.
The Argonians loved the "light-blade wands" the Enchanter had created. The wand itself was of silver and glass with a thin blade of serrated steel running part of the wand's length and a hole at the end allowed a leather cord loop for retention. "I'm an enchanter, not a smith," the Enchanter had snapped when he'd noticed them eyeing critally the blocky and rough edges of the wand. No skilled smiths in Winterhold so Sergius had to rely on a local miner who usually made crude iron tools and stuff to shape the silver and glass. The wand could glow with light its entire length with a modified candlelight spell. A shift of grip, fingers making contact with three gemstuds and the wand would fire off three magelight globes that could be placed to better illuminate a work area. A wand was also easier to wield underwater and the serrated steel blade made it useful for cutting ropes and nets and through thick kelp though it was too brittle for defence.
A little lightglobe watching, a little numbers magic, and the Scouts-the-Deep was creating incredible contour maps of the areas underwater. Revyn also arranged for Drains to work directly with Sergius. The Argonian had brought two enchanted trumpet-like things that had been specially designed for him by an enchanter in Helstrom, a city deep in the center of Black Marsh. The small trumpet was for listening. The large trump was pressed to the ground and, when activated, send a blast of a special type of sound that... Well, Revyn was out of his depth with this. In short, it somehow told Drains what type of ground he was working with and how stable was the land around Winterhold.
+—+—+—+—+
"We don't need your kind here. Who gave you permission to make changes in my Hold?" The jarl's voice bounced off the weathered walls of the over-sized shack that was the longhouse. Present in the hall on the jarl's side was his wife and housecarl, Thaena, and Stormcloak war officer, Kai Wet-Pommel. Revyn had Arven. Guards and interested villagers watched from the sides. Among them was Kraldar, Korir's distant cousin. Kraldar was also the only one willing to work with Revyn and the College to rebuild Winterhold.
The jarl had been off in Dawnstar when Revyn and the Argonians had arrived two weeks earlier. Upon returning he'd flown into a rage to find his Hold "invaded" and his steward vanished.
Malur Seloth, that fetcher acting as the Hold's steward, had disappeared. He was fine in his position when Korir was content to sit in his hall and rage fruitlessly about history and treacherous magis, but the evening after Revyn had introduced him to the Argonians and they'd spent hours reviewing with him the work that needed to be done in the hold, the lazy layabout had packed up and left.
Revyn suppressed a sigh. Jarl Korir was living up to his reputation as being a paranoid, magic-hating, all-around bigot.
Misguided patriot, he firmly reminded himself. "I do apologize if it appears I am intruding, but my Jarl ordered me here and told me get the Argonians settled in so they can start work. I was under the impression that the project to build Winterhold a dock and create a breakwater was already approved by you. Your former steward had already taken in the initial funds I brought with me and made no indication that the project was still under consideration."
The project was already preapproved but evidently Jarl Ulfric hadn't informed Jarl Korir that Argonians and Dunmer were in charge of the project and had left it to him to explain the realities.
"The project can continue when we get some proper Nords here to do the work. When can I expect them to arrive?"
"The plan is to hire locals first, my lord. Get as many of your people invested in rebuilding. The Argonians have skills in the water that will make underwater construction easier and less dangerous to us land dwellers who drown too easily. And the Dunmer soon to come are experienced architects and builders who used to work at Vivec City. Vivec City, in case you didn't know, was a city built on water."
"No one said anything about rebuilding Winterhold over water!" Korir roared.
"Gods! How utterly ridiculous! You elves know nothing about Nords!" said Thaena.
Revyn gently cleared his throat. "So saith my Jarl, the Stormcloak of Windhelm, 'Winterhold started as a fishing village and a port where our Atmoran ancestors built warships that sailed to all ports of Tamriel. It is time they started honoring their dead by living and going forward. Let all Tamriel know that something of their ancient glory yet survives.'"
"Yes. And we did it without the help of you damned elves and lizards," said Korir arrogantly. Revyn refrained from mentioning Atmoran use of Falmer slave labor and dragon patrons.
"As you say, my lord. But even the Stormcloak is starting to accept the idea that to throw off the Empire and the Dominion some outside, non-Nord help may be needed. And against the Dominion, even magic."
Revyn recalled and silently recited the ninth book of The Thirty-Six Lessons of Vivec while the jarl ranted about the evils of magic and of the College of Winterhold.
"Apologies and regrets, my lord, I cannot agree with you. The College has provided invaluable help with the recent vampire battle. In that battle both Stormcloak and Imperial forces fought alongside the Dawnguard and the Companions to defeat the vampire army of Volkihar. The vampires had powerful magic and the College provided mages and magic weapons and spells to counter the vampires.
"As for the College destroying Winterhold, there is documentation, records and reports and letters, in Windhelm that show Winterhold had suffered for at least a century of increasing rains and storms and fierce tides ever since the disasters in Morrowind. These things weakened the ground, the waters saturating and leeching the soil until the land could no longer bear its own weight. The College remained because it was built on the pillar of rock and enchanted ice that still holds it. This part of Winterhold still stands because the land beneath was also more rock than soil."
"Of course you would defend the College, elf," said Korir. "But I know what I know and that's the end of it.
"I did agree with Jarl Ulfric that my Hold needed help to recover and I did agree to a loan for the dock. And I recall the part where he said his people would find the ones to do the building," Korir said bitterly. "I continue to support Ulfric, but you may take to your master that I am angry about this invasion of elves and lizards even if it is to the benefit of my people."
+—+—+—+—+
"That went better than I had expected," said Kraldar. "I was expecting him to order his guards to escort you out of town."
"I think we both know he isn't going to say no to Ulfric," said Revyn dryly.
"No one wants that." Kraldar chuckled and signaled for the innkeeper to bring another jug of mead.
"I do hope he sees sense in appointing you as his new steward," said Revyn. "I know you two have some disagreements about how things should be run."
"He fears the College; I continue to view them as an asset to Winterhold," said Kraldar dismissively. "I've always made an effort to maintain good relations with the former Arch-Mage and I've continued that effort with the present lady, the Dragonborn." Kraldar smiled. "What a frustrating piece she is to my cousin. The Dragonborn, the Hero of legend, is an Imperial and a wizard. Oh, how he and his cronies choked on that." He sighed. "I've invited her several times to dinner — fostering good relations you understand, but she always politely turns me down. I understand she's a very busy lady, but I do hope she will one day accept."
"I wouldn't hold much hope for her accepting any dining invitation," said Revyn, half-smiling and shrugging. "Even when Jarl Ulfric managed to force a dinner attendance upon her she never removed that mask. She sat through a four-hour feast without eating or drinking.
"She is fanatical about her privacy. Dragons are bad enough, but people will expect her to solve all their problems. But if you would foster relations with the College, try Master Tolfdir. Besides being a Nord he is the Master of Wizards and is practically the Arch-Mage in all but title. It was a, um, political necessity within the College to elect the Dragonborn to Arch-Mage though she was a student for less than a year. She has the power of the thu'um, of course, but while brilliant she is not one of their best students. She misses too many classes because of dragons and other problems."
"You think he'll be able to get the Arch-Mage to talk to me then?" asked Kraldar. Revyn shook his head.
"My advice, if you care to take it, is that making a friend of the College means making friends with as many Masters as you can. While the faculty will follow the lead of the Arch-Mage, may take orders and obey directives, they are ultimately, by reason of their craft, individuals. Again, if you will recall, the Dragonborn was not even a student for a year before extraordinary events forced her into action. She has skill and talent and certainly the will to wield power, but more important to them was her status as Dragonborn. The College's reputation in Skyrim is scraping bottom as you well know and having a hero as the figurehead is invaluable.
"Do you see where I'm going with this?"
"I think so." Kraldar sighed. "Perhaps I have been going about this all wrong. It's more work than I'd hoped for. But," he said, brightening, "I can see it gives me more options. If a master doesn't have the time to work with me, they'll probably loan me students who can."
"That's the general idea. Now, if there were only a similar way to win Jarl Korir's regard," Revyn said morosely.
Kraldar grinned. "I've an idea. Korir's been obsessing about a lost ancient heirloom that he believes will help him win the respect of the other jarls. I know he tried getting your wife interested in finding it for him, but she found other jobs more interesting than hunting around for a lost item he wasn't sure truly existed, where it could be found, or what it even looked like."
Revyn snorted. "Hiring someone else to find him respect is not a quest my wife would be interested in. What magical object of respect it it that he seeks?"
"The helm of an ancestor of the First Era. He lost the claim for High King to Borgas, his cousin, and only became Jarl of Winterhold after Borgas's death."
"Another rusty crown hunt?" Revyn shook his head in disbelief. "What is it with all these mystical crowns? Jarl Ulfric wanted the Jagged Crown of High King Borgas and so she finds it. And so Jarl Korir thinks this ancestral crown will solidify his claim to power in the same way? Unbelievable!"
"A war helm not a crown. And I'm afraid so." Kraldar chuckled. "Although, I've yet to hear the other jarls falling to their knees to declare Ulfric the High King for having the Jagged Crown. I doubt having the war helm of Jarl Hanse will help my kinsman find the respect he hasn't earned from the other jarls."
"Wait. Hanse? Hanse Magnbjorn? Hanse the Great Bear?" Revyn looked as if there was something foul in his mead, the way he was grimacing at his cup.
"Yes, that's the one. I believe he was called that because he looked like a bear and was about as subtle as one, if family legends are true."
"Then I might have had that helm back home. My wife's cousin, Nicky, sold me a sack of stuff of items he picked up while on one of his jobs for the Companions. One item was an Atmoran war helm in remarkably good shape for its age. The horns are chipped and one broken in half. The leather padding inside was dried and cracked, but enough remained that First Era scholars were able to read the name of 'Hanse Magnbjorn.'"
"Remarkable! Do you still have it?"
"Er, no. I had it fixed up with bonemold horns replacing the originals, the leather interior replaced, and the metal retempered and polished. Some of the silver inlay had been gouged out so I had new silver laid in. Jarl Ulfric bought it to add to his personal armory. I can try to rebuy it back from him or persuade him to gift it to Korir if you think it will sweeten Korir's attitude."
"I'm sure it would help," said Kraldar. "With that new helm I'm sure I could convince my cousin to go out and practice his new found influence and start building some relations with the other jarls instead of sitting in his hall and sulking."
"I can loan you an amulet of Dibella to help with talking if you'd like. I will also throw in some other restored ancient Atmoran armor pieces including a set of enchanted weapons. Not College magic but enchantments laid by the Atmorans themselves just to prove they weren't shy about using magic to aid their conquests."
They continued to make further plans. Revyn retired much happier about Winterhold's future. Tomorrow he'd be outfitted with his own warmth and waterbreathing enchanted gear because the Argonians wanted to show him the intact, sunken buildings below the dropoff (whatever that was) that contained a good many treasures not washed away in the tides. If those could be salvaged, it could fund much of Winterhold's rebuilding instead of draining precious coin from Eastmarch and the Gray Quarter.
And next week was Hogithum, Azura's summoning day. Already the town was seeing Dunmer pilgrims, the largest group seen in decades, coming into town for rest and supplies before their final trek to the shrine. Revyn drifted off to sleep while listening to some pilgrims practicing songs praising the Prince of Dusk and Dawn.