The Authorized Biography of Arch-Mage Sebastian Ashcroft Chapter Three

by stormcallerbooks

The Siege of Kvatch! We've all heard the legend of that epic battle now hear it told in the Hero's own words! Publisher's Note: Valin Elenig is a freelance journalist and The Black Horse Currier has not been able to independently verify the facts of this piece. The Imperial Council and the Publishers urge our readers to bear this in mind while reading the Sun's Dusk edition.

My Time in Hell: The Authorized Biography of Arch-Mage Sabastian Ashcroft

Recorded by Valin Elenil

Chapter Three – The Siege of Kvatch

As instructed I returned the following week. No wine this time. I could feel that my relationship with Arch-Mage Ashcroft was in a precarious place, and I knew that he was far to intelligent to see a gift as anything other than an attempt to worm my way back into his good graces.

It was now or never. Time to ask the hard questions because I wasn't sure if I would get a third interview at all. The Arch-Mage was already seated when I arrived and without his customary decanter of wine only a wooden pitcher of water.

"Kvatch…that's what you want to talk about." The Arch-Mage said as I sat down across from him.

"Yes"

He took a long breath in through his nose, held it for a moment then let it out.

"Fine. If that's what you want to know then that's what I'll tell you. But I want to make something very clear before we go any further. I'm not interested in making you famous. If I learn that you deviated in any way from the truth in your article I will make life very difficult for you. Starting with making sure you are fully discredited in the world of journalism and possibly ending with seeing you reduced to a pile of dust, depending on how far you stray from the truth in your writing."

"I thought you said Destruction magic was the tool of half-wits who couldn't think their way out of a problem."

"I never said I would be the one who did it."

Silence for a moment before I said, "I'm only interested in the truth Arch-Mage. That's why I'm here."

"Good."

"So…Kvatch. It took me a day and a half to reach Weynon Priory after the events at the Prison. Baurus had been kind enough to remove my shackles so I was no longer cut off from Magicka and I still had the Goblin Totem so I felt no trepidation in traveling from the City to Chorrol, even as night fell. I briefly considered returning to my shop on the East Banks to retrieve a few potions and some traveling money before setting off but frankly I wanted to get rid of the Amulet as soon as possible."

"Jauffre received me far more graciously than I expected him to. Far more graciously than I would have if some unwashed ruffian had arrived at my door in the middle of the night bearing a priceless artifact and rambling about the last words of the Emperor; that's for certain. The priests, most of whom I learned were in fact Blades, took me in and fed me while Jauffre inspected the Amulet to verify if I was telling the truth."

"When he proclaimed that the Amulet was genuine I assumed that my part was finally over and I could return home. Unfortunately I was once again saddled with a task by the Blades. I would not be the last time in my life this organization, which I steadfastly refused to join, ignored my rights as an Imperial citizen and pressed me into service. In this case Jauffre instructed me to travel to Kvatch and escort Uriel's bastard son back to Weynon Priory where he would be safe."

"I agreed, but for no other reason than the fact that Kvatch was not much further west along the Gold Road from Skingrad and I had already decided to visit my sister and show her the Nirnroot I had found earlier that day. As I told you last time the discovery of this believed to be extinct plant live and flourishing on City Isle was of far greater concern to me than the passing of one octogenarian or the search for his bastard child."

"The priests gave me a place to sleep and in the morning outfitted me for the road, even going so far as to offer me a horse though I politely declined. I set out at first light and completed the two day journey to Skingrad with little incident. After reconnecting with my sister and spending the evening with my learned peer Sinderion discussing the alchemical properties of Nirnroot over a meal in his makeshift basement laboratory at the West Weald Inn; I rather begrudgingly set off to find Martin Septim and ferry him to Weynon Priory."

"Kvatch was only half a day's travel from Skingrad so I felt no particular compulsion to leave early, nor did I hurry on the road. I traveled at a leisurely pace, stopping to collect Flax seeds and Alkanet flowers and other ingredients which are so plentiful in the West Weald. As such it was early afternoon before I arrived in Kvatch."

"Or should I say what was left of Kvatch."

"Had I been more mindful of my surroundings I probably would have noticed the black plumes of smoke from the mountain top but my attention was focused on the ground. I had just made the turn to head up the mountain when a fleeing man ran into me knocking me to the ground. He babbled something about Daedra and gates and ran off. As I picked myself up and dusted myself off I noticed the smoke rising from the city."

"I quickened my pace and soon found myself in a sort of tent city that had been constructed in a bend of the road south of the city. Soot covered citizens of Kvatch milled about, some half-heartedly attempting to cook a mid-day meal some just sitting on the ground staring off into space. I questioned a dazed looking Redguard, whose name I never learned, about what happened and he told me that Daedra had over run the town, spilling out of a sort of red glowing portal that opened the previous night."

"I searched the refugee camp but Martin was not to be found. Finally another priest of Akatosh, Ilav Dralgoner, told me that Martin had stayed behind at the chapel to try and help the townsfolk and had become trapped inside with the Daedra. I rushed up the road towards Kvatch and as I topped the hill I saw an Oblivion Gate for the first time."

The Arch-Mage paused then and poured himself a glass of water. He held the glass for a long time before taking a sip.

"So much of the Siege of Kvatch is hazy in my memory. Not as a result of age, the memories have always been hazy. Probably a result of too little sleep and too much pandemonium. But I can still picture that Oblivion Gate down to the finest detail. The black rock erupting from the ground, the oval structure that rings the red glowing portal, the little wisps of Daedric energy that curled in the air around the gate and the high pitched ringing noise that I remember thinking at the time sounded so close to the ringing produced by Nirnroots."

"A group of Townsguard where taking shelter behind a fence line nearby as Scamps patrolled the area around the Gate. The Scamps didn't seem interested in the guards and seemed only concerned with guarding the gate so every few seconds one of the guards would pop up and fire an arrow at the Scamps. It didn't seem to bother the lesser Daedra very much but the guards kept up the barrage regardless."

"The leader of the Townsguard, Savlian Matius, tried to warn me away but when he spotted the Goblin Totem slug over my back he became excited and asked if I was a Battlemage come to help them. I informed him in no uncertain terms that I had no affiliation with the Mage's Guild but he asked for my help none the less. He had already dispatched a handful of Townsguard into the Gate to determine how it could be closed."

"I wondered that such a thing was even possible but Savlian told me that this gate was actually recently opened. The Great Gate that had destroyed Kvatch had opened in the early hours of the morning and only stayed open for about twenty minutes before it closed. That twenty minutes had been more than enough to level the city however as hordes of Daedra poured out and a massive war machine the likes of which the guardsman had never seen before laid waste to Kvatch before retreating back into the Gate. Savlian believed that if those gates, for there were three of them, could be closed than this gate could be closed."

"His logic seemed sound so I entered the Gate."

"Wait…you just entered it? Just like that?"

Arch-Mage Ashcroft actually looked a touch sheepish as he admitted, "Yes, just like that. I know it seems…out of character for me. But at the time all I could think about was how close Skingrad was to Kvatch, how close my family was to this Gate."

"Also, I must admit, I had no idea what I was getting myself into and had an over-inflated sense of my own abilities."

I think I must have choked or snorted or made some sort of noise because the Arch-Mage gave me a withering look before he continued.

"Motivations aside, I entered the gate and found…well found a landscape quite similar to that which I showed you last week. As I crossed fully through the Gate, moving from Mundus and Oblivion, I saw a trio of Townsguard engaging a handful of Scamps. I moved to assist them but by the time I arrived the Scamps were slain as was one of the guards. The survivors told me that one of their fellow Townsguard had been captured and taken to a nearby tower by tall humanoid figures with demonic features."

"At the time I had not yet seen a Dremora in the flesh but I had read about them and knew them to be both fully sentient and that they worked on behalf of a Daedric Prince. Meaning the only reason they would have taken the Townsguard was to obtain information from him for their Prince. What information I had no idea but that seemed the only reason they would not have just cut the Townsguard down like they had done so many others already."

"I sent the survivors back through the portal and made my way through the blasted landscape to the base of the tower where the Townsguard had been taken. When I entered the tower I discovered that I had been wrong. There *was* another reason the Dremora would have captured the Townsguard instead of just killing them."

"So they could be tortured."

The Arch-Mage paused again, pouring himself another glass of water. He took a drink, then a deep breath and let it out before continuing his tale.

"The inside of the tower was…disturbing. Flayed corpses hung upside down from the ceiling at various heights, their bodily fluids dripping down to the floor below. Access to the upper level of the tower was gained by riding a metal platform with a large spike jutting out from the center and holes to allow the floor spikes to pass through it."

"As I stepped off the platform midway up the tower I found the Townsguard. He too was hung from the ceiling, much the same way a cook hangs a hen after lobbing off its head. His cuirass had been torn open and his stomach split, small loops of intestines barely poking out. His throat had been cut and blood ran from the wound to drip to the floor down below. I was taken aback for a moment but then I heard a man's voice screaming from above me."

"I rushed up the circular walkway set along the side of the tower and found a man in a cage suspended from the ceiling being prodded with a hot iron poker by a Dremora. Man and Daedra noticed my arrival and the Dremora dropped the poker and pulled the grotesque longsword at his hip then walked menacingly towards me."

"I conjured up a skeleton to defend me, breathing a sigh of relief as its bony form manifested. I was unsure if I would be able to conjure while in Oblivion and I felt much more confident now that I knew I had some back-up. As the Dremora engaged the skeleton I circled around the melee to find an opportune position and when I was given a shot I blasted the Dremora with the Goblin Totem ending the Daedra's existence."

"As the Dremora fell I heard the prisoner call out 'The lever…on the wall. Quickly throw the lever'! I stepped over to the lever on the wall and pulled with all my might. Slowly the handle dropped to the bottom and I could hear a mechanism engage but the cage did not open."

"I turned to the cage but before I could speak the prisoner did. 'Now quickly out the door and across the bridge. That's the tower that controls the Gate. At the top you will find a Sigil Stone. It looks like a glowing ball but that's what powers the gate. Remove it and you close the gate.' As he spoke I searched for a way to open the cage but he pushed me away, 'Don't worry about me just go!' he commanded me. And I did."

"How did he know?"

"What?"

"How did the prisoner know about the Sigil Stone? That it would close the gate I mean."

Arch-Mage Ashcroft gave me a strange smile. "That's a good question Valin Elenil. A very good question."

I waited for a moment for an answer and when none was forthcoming I said accusingly, "You know more than you are telling me."

"Moving forward you should just assume that I know more about any given topic than you do at all times. Yes I know how the prisoner knew about the Sigil Stone but I am not going to tell you. At least not yet. Besides I didn't know at the time and it would be a shame to spoil the reveal. Think about your readers."

I knew Arch-Mage Ashcroft was trying to wind me up and even though I had promised myself I would ask the hard questions in this interview I knew for certain this was a question that would go unanswered until the Arch-Mage chose to answer it.

"I exited the tower and moved unsteadily along the narrow spit of stone that connected the torture chamber with the Sigil Tower. As directed I entered the tower and fought my way through the Scamps and now Clannfear who had been posted as guardians inside."

"Finally I made my way to the top of the Sigil Tower and saw the Sigil Stone suspended in mid-air in a column of pus yellow light. I started towards it when a massive Dremora far larger than the one I faced in the torture chamber seemed to appear out of nowhere. I conjured a skeleton to engage it but with a few swings of his massive two handed sword the Dremora destroyed it."

"The Dremora turned on me and swung its sword in a powerful overhanded arc which I attempted to deflect with the Goblin Totem. The sword cut deep into the wood of the Totem's haft and the Dremora yanked it from my grasp. I summoned another skeleton and skittered out of the way. The skeleton got strikes in, drawing deep cuts on the Dremora's arms but it was soon shattered like the previous one. As the Dremora turned for me again I lunged forward in a truly desperate act and attempted to absorb his life-force."

"Wait…you did what now? I've never heard of a Mage doing that?"

The Arch-Mage leaned back in his chair and studied me for a moment. "How much do you know about the manipulation of Magicka?"

"Not much." I admitted.

"Magicka exists in all things. It is the manipulation of this Magicka that allows us to work Magic. If for example I wanted to create an illusion of a duck."

He made a motion with his right hand accompanied with by a faint green aura and a perfect illusion of a duck appeared on the table between us.

"I would take the Magicka present inside myself, weave it into my mental image of a duck then push it out towards you for your own body to absorb and viola you see the image of a duck. This is just one way that practitioners of magic have learned to manipulate Magicka over the years. Each College of Magic uses slightly different techniques but they all boil down to the absorbing and projecting of Magicka."

"Alchemist learn to extract Magicka from various ingredients, but that Magicka is…flavored for lack of a better word…by the substance you extract it from so it can only be used for certain specific effects. Some magical practitioners have learned to extract Magicka more directly from living beings without having to use Alchemy to distill it. Once again though the Magicka is flavored so it only serves the rather specific purpose of transferring life-force from one being to another."

"So like when a priest uses Restoration Magic to heal someone?"

"No that would be projecting magicka into the person which the body would use to knit together the wounds. If anything it is the exact opposite of that, drawing the magicka from the body to knit your own wounds. Except you draw the life-force directly instead of the magicka. Cutting out the middle man so to speak."

"I see. And you say you definitely weren't a Necromancer back then."

The Arch-Mage gave me another withering look, "Look kid other Mages use spells like that. It wasn't common, still isn't, but it isn't some Forbidden Magic hidden away and only taught to people who dress in black and sacrifice goats. Most Mage's just don't take the time to bother when the entire College of Destruction exists to do essentially the same thing. Make stuff dead."

"So when my back was almost literally against the wall I put both hands on the Dremora's chest and began to leech his life-force. The sword dropped from his hands and he tried to back away but it was too late. In seconds it was over and I was…"

The Arch-Mage's face took on an unreadable expression. "I was exhilarated. I was practically vibrating with energy. I felt unstoppable. I seized the Sigil Stone in my hand and stared unconcerned as the tower became engulfed in a strange yellow fire. With a blinding flash I found myself standing in front of the now dormant Gate back in Kvatch with the Sigil Stone in my hand and Savlian Matius staring at me in disbelief."

"I turned to look behind me and found that the stone oval that had surrounded the Gate had fallen in upon itself. The ground around the Gate still looked blasted and scarred and I noticed a strange red plant that I had never seen before growing out of the ground near the Gate, but the Gate itself was destroyed. That surge of energy I felt after draining the Dremora in the tower began to fade leaving me more exhausted than I had ever felt before. I stumbled over to the Townsguard and leaned against the fence to catch my breath."

"Savlian Matius congratulated me heartily for closing the Gate but I waved him off. I asked about Martin and he told me that Brother Martin, as he called him, was probably still in the Chapel in town. Savlian informed me that with the Gate closed he and his remaining Townsguard were pushing into the city. He asked me to come along, I think he still thought I was a Battlemage of the Guild despite my repeated protests that I was not. Whatever the case he asked for my help and the Townsguard were set to cut a path to the Chapel so I agreed to lend my aid."

"The Goblin Totem was gone, left behind in Oblivion in all the confusion, so one of the Townsguard thrust a silver coated longsword into my hands. I had never handled a blade before but I strapped the blade to my hip reasoning that at the very least I could wave it frantically in front of me and possibly scare off a Scamp or at least keep it at bay until one of the Townsguard could step in. Thus armed we stepped through the collapsed remnants of Kvatch's front gates and began to jog towards the Chapel, eyes scanning for danger."

"It didn't take long for that danger to appear. A dozen Scamps descended upon us from the wreckage of buildings that lined the road. I stood back and let the Townsguard handle them. I knew a few basic techniques from the Destruction College of course, hurling a small flame and such, but Scamps were born of Oblivion and I reasoned that fire would have little effect on them. So I did the best thing I could and stayed out of everyone's way."

"And it almost worked. Almost."

"Unfortunately while the Townsguard were engaged with the Scamps the noise of battle drew the attention of a Clannfear. The scaled beast charged out of the demolished building to my right and knocked me to the ground. I scrambled backwards attempting to draw the silvered blade but the Daedra was too quick. Three fingered hands ending in inch long talons slashed me across the chest, making a ruin of my shirt and cutting deep into my flesh."

"I abandoned my sword and reached out to drain the life-force of the Clannfear as I had done the Dremora before it. My hands connected and I immediately felt the same…" His face looked pained as he said, "...buzz…I felt when draining the Dremora in Oblivion. Revitalized I took a stronger hold on the Clannfear and pulled as much life-force out of the creature as I could. It died screeching and I regained my footing and pulled my longsword looking around for another foe."

"The Townsguard had dispatched the Scamps by that time with only a few scrapes for their efforts so we set off once more. No more Daedra impeded us and we reached the Chapel. Inside we were met by a Redguard woman named Tierra who seemed to be the ranking Townsguard. She and Savlian conferred while I searched the refugees looking for Martin. There was only one man dressed in Priest's regalia so I assumed that was him, but before I could speak with him I heard Tierra call out for the survivors to follow her to the camp."

"Before I could fall in with the refugees however Savlian pulled me aside. He told me that Castle Kvatch had fallen and he intended to lead a force to storm the Castle and rescue Count Goldwine and he wanted my help. I watched Martin leave with Tierra and reasoned that he would be safe enough once he reached the camp so I agreed to help storm the Castle."

"I'd like to say my decision was made for noble reasons, but I think you know me better than that. The truth is I was still feeling the rush of battle…" again the pained look crossed his face, "…and other things and I didn't want that feeling to fade."

"Savlian clapped me on the shoulder and smiled. Then he took stock of my outfit and directed me to put on one of the fallen guard's chainmail. I tried to argue but he wouldn't hear it. 'The fighting is only going to get more intense from here out and in the chaos of a melee I want to be able to easily distinguish friend from foe. Why do you think soldiers wear uniforms in the first place?' I had never considered that. I always assumed the uniform was meant to force a feeling of unit cohesion not make it easier to pick who not to stab while fighting. Had I been less distracted at the time I would have pointed out that we would be facing Daedra who bore no resemblance to Man or Mer but as I said I wasn't thinking as clearly as I usually do. I struggled into the Townsguard armor and fell in behind the dozen men Savlian had left under his command."

"This is where the events of the night become hazy. Hours passed as we battled through the city. We would take ground only to find our way forward was blocked and we had to retreat and find a new path. At one point we retreated all the way back to the Chapel and were forced to use an underground tunnel accessible through the Chapel undercroft then back up to ground level and through an open courtyard as fire rained down upon us, lobbed by Flame Atronach on the rooves of burning buildings nearby. Most of the Townsguard fell during the assault but in the end two Townsguard whose names I never knew, Savlian Matius and I made it to the Castle interior."

"But we were too late. The Count was dead, we found him in his bedchambers after clearing the Castle of Scamps and Flame Atronach. Savlian was grim but undaunted. 'Kvatch was rebuilt from ruins once before and she'll do it again' he told me. We returned to the refugee camp where I was surprised to learn that the residents of the camp had already received word of my closing of the Oblivion Gate."

"That was when I became known as the Hero of Kvatch. That is where the legend started. I find most of the retellings I've seen or heard are mostly accurate if lacking the proper nuance that my account here will hopefully provide. Yes I went into the Gate and closed it, the first person to do so. Yes I helped drive the Daedra from Kvatch after the Gate was closed. No I was not a six foot tall Nord who blasted Daedra with lightning, nor was I a Womb-burnt Orc barbarian who absorbed the wicked magic thrown at him and pummeled the Dremora to death with his own fists. I was just a twenty year old Alchemist who had been in the wrong prison cell at the right time."

Just then we were interrupted by a knock on the door. Falanu Hlaalu entered. "I'm closing he shop now. Remember I have dinner plans with Naxult."

The Arch-Mage snorted and replied, "Dinner huh? Is that what you call it?"

The two passed barbs back and forth for a minute like me and my sisters did when I was in my teens. I couldn't help but smile at the contrast of the loving younger brother I saw in front of me juxtaposed against the gruff, often combative interviewee I had been speaking with earlier. In the end the Arch-Mage stood and gave the Dunmer a hug and shooed her away.

"Well I think that's enough for this interview. You did good kid, managed not to piss me off to bad this time. Maybe this thing will work out after all, assuming you and your readers want to know more about the *real* story of the Hero of Kvatch that is."

I wanted to press him for more information about Kvatch, especially the mysterious man in the cage, but I knew it would be to no avail. So instead I gathered my notes and left more certain than ever that this was a tale the citizens of Cyrodiil needed to hear.