A/N Conscription

Alt Title: The problematic and unethical methods used to recruit people into the Revolutionary Army: How to do it worse!

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Here's the next chapter! There was a vote in the server on who I wrote next after finishing Worm CYOA, Kitsu: Ch. 60

And it was a tie between Kitsu, and Lilyrael. So I decided I'd finish this chapter of Lilyrael, and move on to Kitsu Ch. 61.

I have 4 active characters. 2 male, 2 female. And the 2 female are both 13.

Why are they the most popular?

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-Date, Time-

'Thoughts'

"Speech"

System

(Text)

*Sounds/Actions*

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-The Forgotten Vale, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201, 2am-

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Lilyrael POV

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"There they are." Azuraitha says as she deposits us on a cliff face to observe the outpost of Corrupted Ones.

It's honestly little more than a collection of dark purple huts and tents. Plates of Chaurus chitin glued together with an unknown substance, and held up by sticks and ropes. I honestly don't want to know what that substance is.

They seem to have a makeshift watchtower as well. Only big enough for a singular, blind archer.

They're just scrounging around like ants. Occasionally raising their heads and swinging them about like skeevers. It's disgusting.

They're just so, humiliating! To see what I know to be my people, reduced to this!

"How do you want to proceed?" Azuraitha asks. "You can only remake one of them at a time."

"Hmm." I hum in thought before turning to the blind Falmer I restored. "True. Anfalen, how capable are you?"

"I am as capable as you need me." He says from beside me, still covered in that hideous chitin armor and dirty rags.

"Could you work as a guard?" I ask the blind mer.

"Yes your highness." He says with a nod. "My lack of vision will not impair my ability to hear any escape attempts."

"Good." I say as I turn back to Azuraitha. "We are going to start post haste. Beginning with the archer on the watchtower. After that, we can set up a small camp to house the additions."

"Your will be done." Azuraitha says with a grin and a curtsy.

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-The Forgotten Vale, 25th of Last Seed, 4E 201, 3am-

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Re-lak Ick fala POV

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"Spell singer!" Hwuch ga-rel calls out in a hushed tone. His footfalls soft even for us, who use the quiet. "A handful gone."

More gone!? This is a truly bad omen. For our mighty camp to be dwindling. Soon we will no longer be a camp, merely a march. Every night, we lose more.

"Who has been lost?" I ask before my blood runs colder than the air.

*Fwoosh* *Fwoosh*

It's back! The void!

"The void!" Hwuch says fearfully as he starts digging into the cold to hide.

I know that won't work. The void comes and finds us, it's like it senses things we cannot. No, the only reprieve we have is the travel holes.

It's with that thought that I sprint towards the whistles of the opening, to the safety of the travels. Dropping my staff in my panic. I won't need it, and The Void doesn't take valuables.

"Ack!" I cry out in pain as I'm grabbed in what feels like a giant Chaurus's mandibles. Just smoother and thicker.

"Ooh, aye gawt a majik casstr." A loud rumbling sound reaches my ears, seeming to speak an unknowable tongue. "Mazstr wehl bi prowd."

I struggle and squirm, desperate for life. A fight for survival against the unknown. And then I realize, there's no point. Because.

There's nothing here. There's only the harsh air and the fwoosh of the Void. This is it, I was taken.

I'm in the void above. Where nothing resides.

Am I dead? Is this my end? What is the end? Is there only silence? Am I to be dropped into the silence. Where those the unknowable words of a final language?

Because fuck this!

I'm not going down like some top dweller! I will fight till my last breath! Until I make no more noise! Until-

My thoughts are cut off as the whistling of the winds stops. And the rustling of the bristles starts. And I'm dropped onto the cold, crunching ground.

"Azer-I-thuh, wai ded yoo beriing mi wahn." I hear a softer sound make. "Ar thuh pehns fuhl?"

"I will not go into the eternal silence quietly!" I shout as I get up and prepare to fight my end. "You'll need to-"

"STUN." Another sound makes.

Wait, I recognize that one. But, I don't. My body does. And my body stops. Refusing to follow my orders!

"Wuht dehd yoo doo too eht?" The softer sound makes.

"Ay wohrd ov powr." The other soft voice says. "Ihts laik yor thoom. Buht, moor, lehmehtehd and ekstreem."

This is it. My end, my silence. Am I to remain? Forever hearing? Never to add my sound to the world again as I whither and stench?

"Hee haz majik, ai thot yood laik thaht too ad too yoor armee."

This sucks.

"Hmm, yehs, I wuhld laik thaht. Thaink yoo azer-I-thuh."

In a few more moments, I feel something, enter me. No, not me, my body, like, my blood and skin and bones, but that doesn't make sense. And, it kinda hurts.

*Crack*

OH BY THE SWEET DEPTHS IT GETS WORSE!

My bones are burning! My flesh is tearing! My blood is freezing! My teeth itch!

*Crack!* *Crick!* *Squelch!*

Oh! No! My body shouldn't make those noises! My leg! I feel everything! And nothing.

You know, this isn't too bad. I think I'm getting used to it.

*Snap*

Nope!

I let the silence consume me as my mind decides not to deal with this.

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Lilyrael POV

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Cyphering through his bloodlines, I find the combinations that allow for magic.

While yes, any half decent mer can access their ties to Aetherius. There is the indisputable fact that some are simply blessed with stronger ties to the Aedra's realm. Some by divine province, others by chance.

I personally have a very strong connection. The royal family being famed for their ability to use magic's of the weather, a blessing of Kynareth from eons prior that has always been present. My father himself was quite renowned for his ability to master storm and lightning magic. He was a mere thirty when he cast chain lightning.

Regardless, I found the sequences that allow his soul its strong connection while reforming him. And I make sure to memorize its feeling and layout. Making sure not to tamper with it as I rearrange the rest of his bloodline.

I finish reforming him back to his proper self. Or, I guess I should say I'm elevating him back to his ancestors glory.

With that done, I call upon my other magic.

"Subjugation." I enact. My magic tethering directly to his soul as I rearrange his mind. Replacing the foul language he's developed, and erasing the attachments to any silly superstitions.

I actually managed to discover that they're afraid of the sky of all things! They can't see, only hear and smell. And they can't hear anything from the sky. So they assume that there is nothing there! It's why they make their camps in valley's and crevices. Less open air.

It's both hilarious in its absurdity, and sad. Pitiful really.

I finish rearranging his mind, giving him a permanent and undying loyalty to me. Doing so is a lot easier than any of the other things. It seems this magic is most well suited to instilling obedience.

Upgrade Quest Complete!

[Overlord in the making: part 1]

Subjugate and keep 10 individuals

Current Progress [10/10]

Reward: [Subjugation] becomes more powerful and versatile. Able to insert basic personalities into those subjugated.

[Subjugation] has evolved and now become [Domination]

[Domination]

To subjugate, is to break someone down until they have no choice but to follow you. To dominate, is to control their very being.

A stronger version of the spell [Subjugation], [Domination] offers an expanded ability to construct someone's will to your own. Inserting entirely new personalities into them so that they may better serve you.

"Perfect!" I say tiredly, yet happily.

My magicka reserves have certainly worked well to their limits. And I'm quite tired after that. Reverting, reforming, rewriting.

"Azuraitha, I shall be retiring for the rest of the morning." I tell my most capable servant. "I shall attend to rewriting the servants minds when I awaken, then we shall set out for Fal'Zhardum Din."

So far we have a collection of three warriors, three archers, one artisan, one cook, and now one mage. Not including Azuraitha of course.

Overall I believe we have a decent scouting party. We can set up camp in the foyer, assess the state of affairs that Fal'Zhardum Din is in. And proceed from there.

I'm unfamiliar with the Dwemer's architectural maintenance needs. So, I'm wary of what this may entail. I only really know that they made machines to do all their tedious labor. But I don't imagine those being able to have lasted four and a half thousand years unattended.

With a basic plan in mind. I retire to my camp, separate from the cages containing the twelve or so other Corrupted Ones locked away in the cave. Azuraitha set a large boulder at the entrance to prevent escapes. Freeing up the labor to do other tasks.

We've set up a basic camp here outside the small ice cave I wandered out of. With the soft glowing pelts of various fauna acting as my bed.

It was difficult the first few nights. But I eventually managed to allow sleep to claim me naturally. Even still, I cannot wait for a proper bed. This rustic lifestyle is not meant for me.

The sooner I revive my people, the sooner we can rebuild. And the sooner I can get a proper bath.

"Naerynda?" I call to the cook.

"Yes master?" The blind Mer says as she faces her ear towards me.

Now that we have an artisan, of a sorts, we've been working on replacing the abhorrent coverings they previously had. So Naerynda is currently covered in furs and thatch. Luthais, our artisan, mostly fletched arrows and strung bows. But there is enough transferable skill that he can make fur clothing.

We're still a ways away from proper armaments, still relying on the hideous bug armor the Corrupted Ones craft for themselves. Though I demanded Luthais figure out how to make wooden bows as soon as he is capable to do so. The further they step away from the decrepit material the better.

It's honestly impressive how many uses they found for the oversized, venomous insects. They use them for materials, food, alchemical reagents, and even as hunting dogs.

"Have something savory prepared for me when I awaken." I tell her.

"Of course, when will that be?" She asks dutifully.

"Wake me when the sun rises." I say as I lay down.

"With all due respect, I am still unaware of what the sun is." She says regretfully.

"Wake me when the air warms away from the fires." I clarify as I let sleep take me.

The sooner I can cure their blindness and remove their reliance on me for civility, the better. They're not inept or incapable, just, I can see how they devolved to such a feral state without anyone having sight.

The fact they remained alive and even managed to create such a semblance of society, however crude it may be. It only proves our resilience. I don't honestly believe any of the other mer would be able to pull such a feat. The Wood Folk would lament their curse and die out in their homeland of Valenwood, the flora and fauna being especially unkind to the disabled. The Noble Folk would likely curse and bemoan their plight, I'd give it a fifty/fifty on whether or not they'd off themselves. The Pariah Folk would, I don't honestly know enough about them to make that judgement. The Changed Folk, and if their descendants are anything like their progenitors, the Cursed Folk, are the only other mer I can see surviving and propagating despite the affliction. If for no other reason than pure spite.

It is with these thoughts and reflections, that I let the peacefulness of sleep take me.

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Bonus

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Arch-Curate Vyrthur POV

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It would seem the Falmer are growing restless. Apparently an encampment was wiped out without a trace. All inhabitants gone in a week.

Granted it was a smaller encampment of only thirty or so Falmer. It is still a concerning predicament. Whatever wiped them out left no trace of them.

There are not even any bodies. No blood, no broken structures, no real sign of struggle. It is as though they were whisked away to Aetherius. Any tracks were covered by the snow. And there's no blood or damage to the structures. They just, disappeared.

I know Gelebor didn't do it. His scent would be traceable and he'd be easily discovered by the Falmer and executed. My idiot of a brother foolishly believes the silence the wayshrines produce and Auri-El's own divine province are what's keeping him safe. When in reality it's me.

I may not care for him anymore. But he is still my blood. And it cost me nothing to tell the Falmer to leave him be. And they'll do so, so long as he leaves them be.

I need to figure out what wiped out that encampment. Before it's cause reaches others, and my army dwindles.

A/N

FUN FACT!

Despite everything taught in the American school system, 90% percent of people during the American revolution, didn't care about the revolution!

They were just trying to live their lives!

As a result, recruitment for the revolutionary army was so low, that enlisters were promised money, slaves and land. None of those promises were kept.

After it got out that the army was broke. They resulted to, more underhanded methods. Such as framing people for crimes and punishing them with mandatory enlistment, going into bars and tricking drunk patrons into signing enlistment papers, tricking non-english speakers into signing enlistment papers.

And when all of this still wasn't giving them the numbers they wanted. They enacted the first draft.

Do with that what you will!

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Azuraitha knows Power Word Stun.

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Whether or not Lilyrael's family is blessed by Kynareth or not, is pure speculation. They could be blessed, or it could just be that weather based magic is easier for them and they allowed themselves to believe it's a blessing.

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I have a headcanon that the reason the Falmer never settle outside the caves, and when they do it's always in tight valleys, is because they fear the sky.

They work on echolocation. And all their echolocation would tell them about what's above them outside, is nothing. And they'd have no way of ever verifying any suspicions. Shoot an arrow! It'll hit the cave ceiling eventually! Then we'll hear it!

Only they never do. To them, there is no such thing as a sky. Just an endless void above. Unperceivable, unknowable.

Not only that, but to them who can only really perceive their greater surroundings through smell and sound, something dying, would be akin to a great silence, followed by rot. And in the cold of Skyrim, the silence would come long before the rot. Making the silent sky above a sort, allegory to death for them.

All together, the encampment that Lilyrael had raided was 28 strong.

10 "reformed"

12 imprisoned

5 dead from the hunting part

1 dead from heart attack when Azuraitha grabbed them.

Lilyrael's conquest has begun!