A/N: Hey all, so holy shit, right? Just a quick note to let everyone know I'm soon to be switching my computer out for a new one in a week so I might go dark while I get it setup. Anyways once again just want to thank everyone who's left reviews, they're really nice and I appreciate them all so much. Especially the one word reviewer. Who ever you are your comment makes me laugh everytime. Stay safe all. Enjoy the new chapter.
Oracle Coven Witches, as Alador has come to realize over the years, are some of the most unpleasant Witches one can deal with on the Boiling Isles. He does mean that quite literally, and he went to school with the Clawthorne's back in the day! Everything about the peculiar branch of Oracle magic deals with either money, trades or trading favors. Not that it's a requirement by any means, they're just a shrewd bunch.
Be it fortune tellers selling 'winning' lottery numbers, diviners locating precious ores and buried gold from the savage ages or simple exorcists that handle rowdy spirits, they all revolve around money. Which of course means nearly all exaggerate and embellish themselves and their skills to appear more tempting than their competitors.
He shall repeat once more; It's a shrewd business, but very lucrative. They're some of the wealthiest Witches who push the great economy to greater heights by the day.
So, with a heavy heart, Alador Blight finds himself entering the tent of a local divination 'expert' in the Bonesborough market. His twin children follow behind him, eyeing the knick-knacks and fake junk set up for display in the dimly lit tent.
Sitting on a comfy red cushion is a black robed elderly woman with her face hidden under a drooping hood. Only her tanned wrinkled hands are visible as they massage the air around a deep green crystal ball.
"Well-well, I never thought I'd see the day Alador Blight, the hound of the shrew, would enter my domain."
Alador raises an eyebrow, "You're a seer. Shouldn't you have 'seen' this coming already?"
"Wha-? YES! I foresaw it many moons ago, back when you were still a little pup!"
"Ugh. Dad, we should find a different one. She's clearly just another cheat."
"Unfortunately, Edric, they're all cheats," Alador advises his son, "-she was just the nearest one to us. Eventually we'll come across a competent Witch."
The short seer fumes in her cushion, shaking like a small dog and points one of her long, and frankly disgusting, wrinkled fingers at the trio.
"You dare insult Magaerna the Greater?!"
"Yes."
"Emira, you're not helping."
"I am a seer! I demand satisfaction for my wounded honor!"
A bag of coins is tossed into her lap.
"...Satisfaction has been satisfied! Tell me what thou seeketh and Megaerna shall scour the spirit realm for the answer you seek!"
Edric tilts his head to the side, confused by the Witch's incorrect use of old and new language. Alador waves his hand, signaling to his son not to think too hard into it.
"We seek the whereabouts of my youngest daughter. I believe she has run off with her friends, and she refuses to answer her scroll."
"Ah, the joys of youth! Why, back in my day we used crystal balls for talking with our friends! None of this new and fancy iScroll junk. I miss Hexas Instuments, nice, simple and heavy so you could bash some rowdy boy's faces in when they got too handsy!"
Alador shudders at the memory. He had been at the end of an old H.I. crystal ball thrashing once, although he ended up marrying the girl who did it.
"Just tell us wat you can see, hag."
The seer huffs and moves her hands around the crystal ball. Inside a swirling can faintly be seen, lights flashing like a contained thunderstorm. The old woman makes a fancy show of things, prodcing odd noises that she really doesn't need to.
As few minutes pass, the old woman's show slowly vanishes. Her body shakes, then begins to convulse violently. Something has gone terribly wrong!
The Blight's rise in alarm, believing the woman to be having a stroke. Before Alador can call for a healer on his scroll, the robed woman lunges at him with an animalistic snarl. Years of fighting practice allows him to catch her at arms length with ease, but with strength beyond her age and size the seer nearly overpowers the younger man.
"Rah! Fiends and fools! Your bones are all rotten! We cannot let the rotten out!
The Blight patriarch scowls at the lunatic and tosses her out of the tent. The three Blights poke their heads out of the tent and watch the seer crawl along the ground on all fours like a beast and chase after a random shopper while raving about biting ankles and pouring boiling milk in their eyes.
"...Is that Boscha? Should we help, that's Amity's friend right?"
"No, remember grudgby? Amity hates her now. I say let the hag chase her some more."
Alador clears his throat and gets their attention. The twins look to their father with uncertainty.
"While it is always important to be law-abiding citizens, for the sake of our investigation I believe we should simply move along quietly."
Edric and Emira glance at each other. Did they hear that right? Prim and proper Alador Blight just told them to basically dump and run? Perhaps there is a living soul in him after all.
"Ah, Aladog! Been a while! Take a seat, kids too."
Alador suppresses an angry grumble and takes a seat at the bar with his children on either side. The building itself is an old saloon in the lower levels of Bonesborough; It's old, dusty, and decorated with human junk no doubt bought from the infamous Owl Lady, but they have good food, drink and company not to mention it's always quiet.
Rough looking Witches give him glares as he passes, but they quickly avert their gaze. Alador is far beyond their touch and they know it. For now they simply find comfort in the drinks and ignore him.
"Hello, Lloyd, it's not been long enough, I'm afraid." The Mi-go beats its wings quickly like a bird, it being how his race communicates mirth, before returning to his task of eternally cleaning an empty glass cup.
As usual Lloyd's bar is empty, save for the few odd regulars and newcomers. Alador finds himself here as a regular more often than he should for his station in nobility. Still, like many of the forlorn within, he finds himself in a bar drinking the worries of the world away for a night.
"Usual for all three of ya'?"
The twins look away from their father with nervous sweat dripping down their brows. Alador gives them both an unpleasant look before sighing and dropping enough cash to cover all of their drinks. The twins mumble their thanks and sip their drinks while planning some sort of lie to tell their father later. The patriarch simply finds solace in his lager and hopes he remembers to talk with his eldest later about their bad habbit.
"What's with the long face, Dog?"
Now he grumbles angrily, not that Lloyd pays it any mind, "It's been a rough day, so to speak."
"Ah, more troubles in paradise, eh? If you ask me you should'a divorced her years ago. Dalia's still the uptight jerk that she always was, even back when we were young grubs."
"Watch your mouth," Alador snarls like a hound with his teeth bared, "That's my wife you speak of!"
The bug creature doesn't flinch. He's dealt with Alador's mood swings for longer than his eldest have even been alive. Mentioning Odalia has always held such reactions.
"Fair enough, I'll let it be. How about yous' kids? Wanting anything in the kitchen?"
Edric and Emira shake their heads and silently sip their beverages, both of the twins visibly uncomfortable at the thought of their parents potential divorce. Alador, despite outwardly appearing as distant from all the troubles of the world, notices his children and sighs silently.
"Edric, Emira," They turn to him, "I do love both of you and mother, you know that, right?"
"Y-yeah, definitely." - "Of course, father."
Their responses are stiff and wooden. Even still, he can see they're more relaxed. Their shoulders are loose and they both don't seem to be trying to shrink anymore.
Alador sighs deeply and finishes off his drink. Lloyd quickly fills it again and the Blight is back to drinking more. The Twins share a glance with each other, both of them unsure how to approach the situation.
"Hey, dad... do you think we'll get Amity back?"
"Absolutely, and both of you should believe as such and have faith in yourselves and your father. I know the Oracles we've visited have been of little help, but such magic is not our only option. We have other avenues to investigate, but for now we must rest."
Lloyd the bug-man suddenly perks up at the mention of oracle.
"Ah, I'm guessing your visit to them didn't end so well. I'd wager the Witch went bonkers mad, eh?"
"Yes... how do you know that?"
"See, best I've heard has it Oracle's all across the Isles are going nuts and shouting about some sort of coming doom. A real end of days apocalypse sort of thing. All of em', from noblemen down to the street rats hangin' outside my bar! They say it's an epidemic and it's spreading."
Alador's mouth suddenly feels dry. A deep, hollow feeling swells within him, telltale signs of a growing panic. He drops another stack of bills on the bar and grabs his twins by the hand and drags them towards the exit in a hurry.
"I am sorry, Lloyd, but I find myself suddenly taken with business. You make keep the change. Edric, Emira, we must hurry back home!"
"Wha-dad!"
Before they can reach the door, the wood surrounding it seems to come to life and warp and bend like crawling snakes where it quickly covers the exit as a magically formed barricade. Alador stops only halfway from the door. Behind him his twins tense and look around the dark corners of the room. Hidden in the shadows half a dozen Witch-demon hybrids approach the Blight family.
The rabble is an ugly bunch. Multiple eyeballs, technicolor skin and misshapen horns, but Witches none the less. Alador guesses them to be Construction Coven Witches given their rough looks and hard labor dirty clothes.
In moments the six of them surround the trio, in their hands are various weapons such as bats, crowbars and hammers. The Blight Patriarch fixes them a harsh glare, one that has brought fear into the hearts of Witches ever since he was still a student of Hexside. Five of the ruffians clench their weapons nervously and share looks, each of them with a healthy amount of sweat dripping down the sides of their faces. The leader, a blue-skinned man with four arms and only a single eye smirks and spins around the two heavy twenty-pounder sledgehammers in each sets of hands on either side of his body.
"Hahaha!" His voice is rough and croaking. The sound of it grates harshly on everyone's ears and makes Emira crinkle her nose in disgust. The four armed construction foreman continues with exaggerated movements that wobbles his loose, bright yellow helmet around, "Bold of you to come to this place dog. This is my place, and snobs like you don't belong here."
"I've been coming here for years," Alador tilts his head inquisitively to the side, "I've never seen you here before. How long have you been visiting Lloyd's?"
"About two months give or take."
The Mi-Go buzzes and ducks under the counter as one of the twenty-pounders crashes into the wood and splinters it with a loud crash. The foreman opens his hand and the hammer flies back into his grip.
"Buzz off! This is between us blue collars and white collars!"
"Whatever issues you appear to have with me I can assure you it can be handled respectfully later. I have something to attend to so if you could just leave a message-" Alador jumps back as the wooden board beneath his foot shoots up and bends like a snake. He casts a spell circle lightning fast and in moments the wood disintigrates into dust.
"Edric, Emira, stay close. I shall handle this!"
Before they voice their complaints he shuts them down with a stern glare. However, the look melts into one of reassurance and instantly the twins know they can trust their father to keep them safe.
Beneath their feet a large circle of glowing purple light forms. The distinctive scent of abomination magic begins to fill the room. The six ruffians prepare their weapons and ready their construction magic for a hard fight.
"You Blights have been pushing us construction Witches around for too long! I'll be the hero we deserve an-agh!" He's cut off as a tentacle of abomination slime shoots out of Alador's circle and throws the boss into the ceiling. Suddenly five more tentacles grab the other workers and toss them about the room as a small child torturing their dolls would. The Blight continues the onslaught, throwing the bodies around, smashing them into stuff breaking bones and Lloyd's human junk alike.
Within moments the group is defeated and Alador and his eldest are on their way out once again. "Bill me for the damage, Lloyd!"
"Please don't come back!"
Alador races through the Blight manor, but before he knocks on the closed door of his wife's office he stops and addresses his twins. "I believe it would be best not to mention Lloyd at this time."
"Yeah, totally." - "I'm not saying nothin'."
Their father nods his head and knocks on the door. After a few moments he goes to knock again, but the door slowly opens for them with no one behind it. The twins gulp nervously and follow their father into their mother's office. Thousands, maybe even millions of snails have gone into fixing the west wing of the manor, including the near complete destruction of Odalia's office. Standing, looking out of the new central window into the immaculate gardens with her hands tucked neatly behind her back is the matriarch and head of the Blight family.
Slowly the three walk towards the small, unassuming yet completely terrifying woman until they stand before her. Odalia does not acknowledge them, choosing to keep her back to them until they pause at a respectable distance, only then does she turn and the cold glaze in her eyes sends a shiver down their spines.
"Odalia, there has been a development. I think we need to reassess our-" She holds a hand up and silences her husband. Alador snaps his mouth shut and readies himself mentally. Years of exposure has given the Blight all the experience he needs to understand when his wife is angry, beyond angry and so angry it becomes cold fury. Cold fury is what frightens him most. Cold fury is what hurts the most.
"I'm quite aware of the new development, Alador. Would you like to know how I know that?" He doesn't answer, "Ah, now I remember! How in the world could I not know, given that all of the Boiling Isles knows, including the emperor. I gave you a simple task, dear, and now days later not only have you failed to capture the daedra, you've failed to even find a clue! Now all of our Oracles have gone raving mad and our daughter is still as close to us now as she is when she was first taken. Do you know which coven controls most of the money? The Oracles! Do you know what happens when the people controlling the money go mad? Our economy crashes! Do you know what's about to happen? Our economy is going to crash. Now please, tell me, what in the bloody hell is the hold up!"
Her face is stone cold and iron hard. Completely unreadable despite her shouting mere second ago. Alador clears his throat and adjusts his collar, even his carefully crafted façade struggles and cracks under the biting pressure of his wife.
"Odalia, you have to understand! The daedra is crafty and skilled, it's hard to-" "It's hard!"
The head of the Blight name throws her hands up mockingly and talks in a deep voice poorly emulating Alador, "It's hard! Oh so hard! I was chosen to enter the Blight name for my mind and skill, yet all I can come up with is it's hard!" Her voice returns to normal, "Grow up, dog! Our lives are on the line! Your daughters life is on the line! If the Emperor finds out a daedra has been let loose under our name we're finished! So, seeing as you struggle due to your dotage, I have set up a meeting for you. Go to the library and tell them I sent you. I've reserved special material to help you identify the monster. Fix this. Our daughter now isn't the only one in danger. The whole bloody Isle's are!"
He nods and spins around on his foot and marches straight out of the office. Behind him his twins follow, both of them silent yet frankly disturbed with questions. Why does their father put up with that kind of treatment? Why is their mother so cruel, and perhaps a divorce might not be the... worst idea for their family? As if that could ever happen given the legal power their mother possesses. Whether he likes it or not, Alador will never shed the Blight name.
Bendu whistles a birdsong and meanders about the stalls and various shoppes of the Bonesborough market, searching for magical items to work interim as an enchanting table. With the business at The Knee behind him, the old archmage set himself about on a small journey to the markets to try and jank together enchanting materials.
It has been an interesting experience thus far. Small winged elves tried gnawing his skin off, he had to save a teenager from some demented old woman and also had a run in with a small pig-man creature that tried selling him faux magical materials.
He finds himself charmed by all of the funny creatures, people and architecture of the town. Last time he was there guards attempted to arrest him for 'consorting' with a criminal. Thankfully this time the guards had no reaction, apparently having forgotten he skipped on an arrest only days prior.
Could he have found what he was looking for hours ago? Yes, absolutely. However, for those who might say he was wasting time... shut it! Look at all of the things! The little redhead he saved introduced him to some kind of communication scroll and took a realistic painting with it in seconds. Seconds! He could barely even believe it! An hour later and he has one himself and is heavily addicted to some instant painting sharing convention held entirely within the scroll.
Only issue is he has no idea what he's doing with it! And if there's one thing he learned during his time at the Arcane Univeristy, then it's bother the librarians about stuff you don't know. Chances are they know, or know someone who knows, or knows someone who knows someone who then knows someone and so on. Researchers are devilishly fast from all of the running around by the end of their tenure.
Mages in Cyrodil may not be strong, but by the divines graduates of the University are fast.
Now the archmage finds himself at the local library. Out of all the buildings that populate the town, the library is one of the few that seems normal. It's blocky, modern and gothic just like many of the newer buildings in eastern Daggerfall, a fond bit of nostalgia. Bendu steps inside the building and finds himself taken by familiarity. Adults, children, rich and poor mill about the stacks, all of them quiet and peaceful as they go about their business.
He sees a young, handsome man move like a ghost around the various sections, a pile of books stacked comically in his arms that eventually gets him chided by Tar-Meena for recklessness with such invaluable material. The ghost disappears and only then does he remember it was only just a memory of a different, younger man.
Something tickles in the corner of his eye. He wipes the particle away and dries it on his trousers. Oh, tears, now? How surprising.
Bendu clears his mind of nostalgic thoughts and walks to the clerk's counter and waits in line behind a tall, cloaked man and his two green haired children. Such funny hair color appears to be common in this realm, same with the general appearance of the people too. Hey, he's not one to judge! Cyrodil has been described as 'the ugliest country' in Tamriel by many of its neighbors in regards to her people.
He'd argue Morrowind was uglier, but many say it was more fun, whatever that means.
The girl twin pulls out one of the funny miniature scrolls and begins tapping away at the paper. She glances at Bendu for a split second before returning her attention back to wasting time like a typical teenager. Suddenly she gasps and goes stiff like a statue and turns to get her brother's attention. He reacts in the same way and they both whisper something in their father's ear.
Odd, but he's not bothered by the behavior. Now why is it that the twins are so familiar...?
Boscha's had better days, she won't lie. Getting chased by a weird dog-Witch was pretty awful, having it almost gnaw her ankle off and pour boiling milk in her eyes was even worse. Then there was the whole deal with the weird old guy who maybe was even scarier than the Witch giving that he made explode.
You heard her right, explode! Pointed a finger at her and blew her up with a fireball.
It's was pretty rad. Then he ruined it by being a weirdo and started freaking out about her iScroll, so she pointed him at a stall where he could buy one and snuck away while he was distracted.
Now she finds herself waiting by the library. Baby Blight hasn't been to school in a while and won't answer her scroll. How is she supposed to mess with her rival if she's just dropped off the face of the Isles?! The way she figures it, Amity always hangs out at the library so maybe she can find her there? Boshca has vague memories of Amity doing some reading with kids or something, she really wasn't paying attention, then.
She turns the knob to enter the library when suddenly a bright light explodes from behind the door and something heavy slams into her.
Edric and Emira crash into the ground and roll to a stop at the far end of the street. Titan, was that daedra really this powerful all along?! Edric hacks weakly and pushes himself up on his elbows and breathes deeply, wincing as his sides ache from a large bruise hidden under his shirt. Emira fared better, having landed on what he thinks is Amity's old friend and knocked the tween out, without harming herself. Emira pushes herself up and holds her arm, wincing from some unseen pain.
It couldn't have been a more perfect coincidence. They run into the daedra in the library and it doesn't even recognize them! The other-dimensional being simply tapped its foot impatiently and didn't even react until their father turned around and trapped him with his abomination magic.
They did it! They captured the daedra and were prepared to take it home and rescue their baby sister! But then... then the daedra smiled. It was happy, elated and barked with mad laughter.
Then their father's abomination exploded and they were blown outside.
"E-Ed!" Em's voice is hoarse, "We gotta help dad out!"
A large purple mass is blown out of the doors and lands with a heavy thud in the middle of the street. It's shapeless at first, but then the mass diverts itself and transforms into a large octopus-like creature with over a dozen tentacles. From the top of the creature their father emerges from within the abomination goo. The twins can't help but be taken in awe by the skill their father demonstrates with his abomination magic.
Most abomination users struggle with 'advanced shapes', basically if its not person shaped it's considered impossible to form. Then there's Alador Blight riding a massive monster of an Abomination shaped like an octopus and he's doing it without a single sweat off his brow.
Hard spikes grow from the tentacles and the twins decide its time they sit things out. Only advanced abomination magic can make abomination slime structurally hard instead of fluid. If their father is using such techniques, then that means he's fighting serious, and serious means seriously dangerous.
"Em, I think we outta' sit this one out!" The abomination grabs a nearby transit-bug and chucks it into the library where some blast of light inside causes the magically created transit creature to bounce back and fly into a nearby building.
"Maybe we should run away a little too?"
"Agreed!"