Jon and Lydia woke up once again tangled in each other, him nearly throbbing to finally enter her again. It was almost there, and Jon had to know, "Is there a blessing involved here."
Lydia yawned, "Yup. Comforting Embrace. You wake up a little more alert and happy, focused. Good for people who aren't morning people, like me and most others."
Jon said, "It's literally a fucking drug, and everyone is addicted to it. Is that what made us like this? The first time, and now mommy and daddy need another hit."
Lydia gave him a light hit, light for an Augment with Dovah go-go juice in her against a Dovah with Augment go-go juice in him. Maybe that's how he should think about everything. These aren't gods, these are fucking space aliens, and one made him into a fucking space alien. And he fucked her into being a space alien. It all just has a side benefit of making these peoples religions true, because the power of these fucking space aliens is indistinguishable from fucking godhood. Fuck.
She said, "That's the Lovers gift you're talking about. And probably, yes."
Jon said, "Then why didn't I feel it with Irileth, no wait, I can answer that myself. Your embrace was actually comforting on a deeper level. Irileth, and Uthgerd really, was me literally dying a couple hours beforehand, and needing off for the first time in weeks. You'll find that's torture for us, but you can't really do much fucking in a fucking combat zone, unless you're stupid. I've caught eight Augment's with their dicks wet and pussies stuffed. Fucking hilarious every time, the look on their faces. And the look on whoever was servicing them."
Lydia said, "So how many-"
Jon lightly snapped out, "You don't want to know, and your past is none of my business either. Fair?"
Lydia said, "Well you did go two rounds with two different women in one day basically, so maybe you're right. Now shut up and do things to me that you would do to no other."
Slow and passionate again it is, Jon thought. They all wanted the strength of ten men, with the steed to match. She just wanted him. They spent an hour on those side quests, before questing to a private bath for half another and eating for half more. At around 0900 hours they stepped out into the courtyard, robes on and hoods down, but still in kit. This was Skyrim, after all. The trip was slated for 1000, and taking to about 1200 Tolfdir said, eating lunch at the tomb before studying it in earnest.
Jon reckoned he had enough time to make a trip to the library. He and his shield-maiden made their way across the courtyard and too the main hall. He glanced at her again with his dragon eyes. The way the hood sat over her own draconic eyes, the way the robes framed Lydia's strong frame and moderately sized breasts, it called to him. He continued his labors as he opened the man-door of the grand door to the main hall, for her of course. Lydia could now smell such thoughts on him, and he didn't care if she could. Good, he thought.
Up the stairs a level, and they came to the next three that made up the library. The place had only the perfect amount of dust, and was well fed by natural light from the large windows, thus cutting down on the unnatural light of open flame. These people probably had a spell for that, with no fire risk, Jon thought. A couple professors, various researches, and students were apprising tomes either at tables or open cases.
The man behind the counter was mean, and green. He had a balding head pulled into a topknot, gray all though it and covering his thickly bearded face. His robes were a dull yellow, and the same gi pattern as Jon and Lydia's, as compared to Professor Tolfdir's more open robe style. There were small strands of blood in the Orsimer's eyes, constant pulsing and ready to lash out at any who disrespect this man's sanctum.
Jon was going to try and be polite when the man said, "What the fuck do you want?"
Jon scoffed, striking back, "Are you just a fucking dick all the time, Librarian?"
The Librarian growled a bit, "Listen here punks, this here is my library. You can consider it my own personal fucking Plane. You do not want to see what happens if you disrespect one of my books."
Jon smiled, with a middle finger up, "I guess I can at least disrespect you. I was going to try and give you a mythic age Illusion tome, but maybe I'll just shove it up my ass instead?"
Lydia said, "I'd like to watch that."
The Librarian's lip twitched, and Jon could see the blood beginning to fill out. The eternally angry man also didn't know why that finger was pissing him off so much. What did it fucking mean!? "You better not be fucking lying to me, little man."
Jon slowly pilled the tome out, and the blood in the Librarian's eyes nearly filled. His rage filled eyes snapped to Jon, and Jon actually flinched. Not out of fear, the look was terrifying, but out of restraint to keep himself from punching a hole in the man's head. Instinct screamed at him. That will be a conversation when Lydia does it the first time, probably on accident. He would let the Librarian think whatever.
The Librarian said, "Where. In. The. Fuck. Did. You. Find. This."
Jon gave a small smile, "In a mythic age tomb."
The Librarian's went wide as he took fast and deep breaths to control himself. He said, "What. Tomb."
Jon said, "Don't remember. I have a coin sized hole in my me-"
The Librarian slammed his fist, "Tell me now!" The entire library came to a dead stop. Those that knew, got out.
Jon still had his small smile, "Shroud Hearth Barrow. It was good stuff. My spells are quiet as a fox now."
The Librarian slowed his breaths, and the blood began draining from his eyes. He said, "I'll give you three measure. We always have bounties for good books. Especially ones where only two copies survived the mythic age, and not in as good as shape. The tome is nothing new because the beat to shit copies, not even really bound anymore, are still readable, and thus copy-able, but this even looks notated. Excellent find. We'll have the best known copy in existence now."
Jon took his coin and said before turning away, "Thank you, Librarian. I'll be coming back later. I'm going to read your books. All of them."
Jon and Lydia quickly walked out as the screams of unfettered rage began, snickering all the while. Down the steps, out the main hall, and they saw J'zargo just walking across the courtyard. They didn't have to call him out, because he smelled them and turned around as soon as they hit the stone outside.
When they caught up to him he walked with them and said, "You are going to the meeting point, yes?"
Jon nodded and said, "Yeah. Want to be at least a couple minutes early. You seem to have the same idea."
J'zargo gave a sly smile, "Just as one needs class to learn, one needs excuses to leave class. As you say, one must do. J'zargo like doing more than class."
Jon scoffed, "Me too." and Lydia took a second to get it.
J'zargo said, "Ah, yes. J'zargo knows much of this, at least from the floorboards."
Lydia blushed, and Jon scoffed harder, "Of course you with your Khajiit ears get quartered right above us, and hear what we did to each other. Sorry pal, we'll tone it down."
J'zargo smiled and said, "You made a very good effort. Maybe not so late in the night."
Lydia said, "That was my fault, really. I wanted more. He even suggested we go to sleep earlier."
J'zargo said, "All is well, friends. J'zargo is used to such things. The floor boards are better than tent pelts, anyway."
After a quick chuckle, the intrepid trio walked across the Impossible Bridge and back into the town. They once again made an effort to stay out of the way of the townsfolk. Sicking to side walks or back alleys. They saw a party or two paying no mind, walking straight down the main drag with not a care in the world like the main characters of their own story. They would move aside only when absolutely necessary. J'zargo even said all new entrants to the 'class' were given scrolls with directives on how to act around the town. The fact that it was necessary said something about the average student, Jon thought.
The trio always got polite looks however. Not all wizards are as arrogant. Jon of course helped an old woman pick up a sack of potatoes she dropped, and of course got more arrogant looks from passing classmates on the way to the rally point. I am superior, Jon thought, and they were big mad about it. Nothing he could do except keep on keeping on. Is that what the kids say these days? Jon was an old soldier at a young age.
The Passed into an alley to finally exit the back way out of town when a roar far off in the distance pissed him off. It pissed Lydia and J'zargo off too as they all stopped in their tracks. They were about to have a fun time in an ancient ruin, with things to find and burn in equal measure. A date with his shield-maiden, at university, a fantasy in his time and place. The fact that got closer on the next pissed them off even further. A little closer, then the guards calling it out. The crying was about to start.
Jon cried havoc in response. Thu'um leaked from his tongue. He commanded, "WIZARDS, ARCHERS, HIT THAT THING WITH EVERYTHING YOU GOT! ATTACK AND NEVER RELENT! INFANTRY GET PEOPLE INTO COVER, ANY IS BETTER THAN NONE! THE DRAGONBORN STANDS WITH YOU! FUS"
The challenge was made, the challenge was responded to. Before running off Jon said, "J'zargo on the roof and on the move, I'll make towards the gate. Lydia, the wizards are kids mostly, not warriors, try to direct them. Hit and run from cover."
The city of Winterhold cried havoc themselves, let slip their steeds of war. The Dragonborn stood with them.
After the beast crested the mountainside and got within range of the town along the cliff, dozens of bolts and dozens of arrows rose to meet him. The attack was coordinated by the Dovahkiin, he heard. The arrows were annoying, as they sometimes stuck in his scales, but the wizards were a problem. They could damage them over time, and the amount of spells would make it hard to see. One caster in particular was of good eyes and thus aim, and he was the greatest threat after he had charred the Dovahkiin. He saw the Dovahkiin leap from the roofs to the main gate on the flight over, obviously to meet him in fiery debate.
Just as he was about to open the debate properly, the elder speaking first, the Dovahkiin did it for him, "FUS RO DAH"
Jon placed his Thu'um right where he wanted it, just as the dragon started a glide as with a particular gait. He had made it to what was left of the wall in record time over the roof tops. Certainly faster than the dragon was meandering towards the town. There was a mountain a bit of a distance in front of it that the main road out of the town looped round along the cliff that the bulged into the sea. There were many better approaches down the same mountain range that would have put the beast directly on top of them before any kind of response could be coordinated. Why didn't the thing come over the mountain the city sits directly at the base of? Loop around through the range where no one would see him until it was too late?
Jon wondered if this dragon was arrogant, stupid, or both. A supposed son of a Divine is thinking in terms of full, almost slow, frontal assault against whats left of the cities main gate? Crying out his position while doing it? Across a no-mans land? Jon couldn't be this lucky. The Worm was thinning the heard. He maybe even knows where Jon is. He was reviving incompetent dragons, and then sending them to where he knows they will be killed, one by one, before making coordinated assaults. Lessons learned from the last war, no doubt. And if they do survive and complete their objectives, then maybe they are worth keeping alive. Sacrificial probing attacks.
If that is the Worms gambit, then he's making a mistake by letting his foes get any information on dragons they don't currently have. By way of studying their corpses. Did he know Whiterun held firm? That this was not some ancient police action against rebellious primitives with the favor of a goddess? That he was in a them or us war, where casualties are now permanent with a Divines-blessed Butcher on the field? Or Jon could be lucky. Impossibly ancient, impossibly arrogant and stupid demi-gods, and Jon was chosen by daddy to spank them, as Sam said.
The blue force of of the shout connected with the very middle of a main wing joint. At the extremes of the shout's range, there wasn't a chance to crush scale and bone like he did the last dragon. There was a chance of dislocating a joint and grounding it however, or at least throw him off balance before he shouts. Jon made sure to to throw the shout ever so slightly off balance to induce uneven resonance. That would lessen power of his shout overall, but send that uneven resonance straight into the dragon's bones. As the shout travels the uneven resonance might even build upon itself, making the intended effect more potent against its intended target. Vibrate the joint apart, was is ploy, not brute force it apart.
Jon's control of the Thu'um was precise. The joint was dislocated. The dragon roared in pain as it rolled due to the lost of thrust on one side, and slammed hard into the ground, further marring the wing. It slid along the mostly flat road and it stopped with its head just before the main gate.
Jon couldn't ask for a better opportunity. He jumped from the wall and landed feet first into the side of the dragons head as soon as it came to hits halt, keeping up his offensive. He met the dragon's eye with his own for only a split second, showing him his Doom That Approaches, "FUS RO DAH"
Maybe he was just lucky. Wait, that woman in the mine, what in the fuck did she do? Was she being literal? Is there a luck god? Did he dare think that he was just that good, that he was indeed superior, that he was what his people were meant to be? Only for the couple seconds it took to eat a soul.
The guards screamed on the wall. The dragon defeated by the Dragonborn. The town behind them screamed themselves. The Dragonborn had come for them, and the dragon was slain. A party would ensue that Jon could get lost in. But not yet however.
Jon simply climbed up the wall to the top of the gatehouse he had taken cover in. the handholds were well eroded in, and his gloves he totally bought along the way somewhere gave him good grip up the still proud construction. It survived where others didn't, like Jon did.
When he got to the top, the guards were about to do their thing. Why always the guards. Deeply rooted Talos cult, no doubt. Jon did his thing, "Did you guys fucking see that? And I'm not talking about the Thu'um. Call me Thane by the way. A couple weeks ago I didn't know what that is, but now I are one."
The guards fought their chuckles for whatever reason, Jon thought, and one said, "I think I know what you're talking about, because I was wondering the same thing. Why come over the mountain range there and down the stretch? Why give us any time to see him and prepare, almost a full two minutes. He could have came down right on top of us and cut the city in half."
Jon said, "Bingo, make this man a Guard-Sargent. The truth is, I do not fucking know. I was hoping you could help, because I'm just a dumbfounded as you are."
The guards around nodded slowly in understanding. The man wasn't the second coming of Talos Stormcrown, a Divine. Just a man, who doesn't know things, chosen by Akatosh to kill dragons. And he did it in front of them like it was nothing, so no wonder he was chosen.
The Guard-Sargent said, "Thank you thane. We had gotten word that they could be beaten, but your Voice steeled us further. It turned desperate action into survive into decisive action to win."
Jon bowed a bit, and the guards were offended, "The glory is yours. You didn't hesitate to meet the beast, and wouldn't have no matter where he attacked. If any asked, I moved on after slaying the beast in the name of Jarl Balgruuf and Whiterun's War Against The Dragons, which is true once I stop at the bank. By ancient rights of conquest and salvage, it's bones are my property. I will be arranging for transport. Would you please organize the bones for it?
The guards cried, "Yes Thane!"
He said one final thing before leaping down, "Please also give my regards to the Jarl, and tell them I recommend sending a Drill -Master to Bulgruuf's court for training."
Jon kept to the back streets to make his way to the bank. It was sitting on the very edge, like it was the last building to not be swallowed by the sea. Jon wondered if that meant something. He would perhaps make deposits elsewhere.
On the card he wrote, "Cry havoc, and loose the steeds of war. CC"
Thankfully the majority of the party was talking place around the gate, and around the bones being prepared for transport. What they would tell you is that he moved on after slaying the beast in the name of Whiterun's War Against The Dragons. What a few others would tell you is that Jon worked around the back alleys he had mapped from the moment he entered the town. He came to the Smiling Duo and the Intrepid Trio took off after explorations grand, but not before Lydia near ate Jon's face. You always got the warrior princess after slaying the dragon.
As the walked to the meeting point, a little past the original meet time, J'zargo said, "So does this mean J'zargo is now technically a dragon-slayer? He was in the Dragonborn's party after all."
Jon smirked, "Sure, why in the Oblivion not. Anyone that refuses to give in to them is a dragon-slayer in my dragon eyes. They win though fear and terror, disorientation. That's what kept people in chains. That's what the Thu'um is to them. A weapon of terror."
J'zargo nodded, happy to be a dragon-slayer, "It is a cold dagger in yours, Jon of the house of Noonien-Singh. Precise. A weapon of war."
Jon said, just as they finally exited the town, and to the back way to the ice fields, "I'll admit I didn't know for certain I could control the Thu'um like that. Bit of a knee jerk test. I at least wanted to throw him off balance to prevent an alpha strike, and make sure ours connected. Turns out my original gambit worked perfectly, and I keep learning more about how to control this Shout. I understand what the Graybeards meant. Easy to learn, only mastered though experiment and experience."
J'zargo nodded. Was there any competition here? Lydia simply held Jon's arm and basked in the tactical acumen and fine control of her sword-bearing Thane, a Divine with the power to bless her as he did. She knew all about his fine control and blessings. Jon could smell such thoughts, and she wanted him to. A warrior, temporarily wizard, demi-goddess, she was. Her family lost would be nothing but proud, and that Burned-Eye bastard didn't know what was coming for him when she found him. They, found him.
Tolfdir was sitting alone by the small gate as the Trio came within speaking range. He said, "Ah, I had a hunch you three might still show up. The trip is officially canceled due to recent circumstances, but Professor Gane is already at work, and with the three of you, I can go with a full Party. Thank the Divines the Dragonborn happened to be in Winterhold. How lucky are we?"
Jon showed the truth of his eyes, "Yeah, how about that?" And his ring snickered in response.
Tolfdir was taken aback, but in place and not offensively so, "My goodness. No wonder you hid your eyes. And here I thought I could trip you up with a little spotlight."
Jon smiled, "You did spend an hour tripping me up with cautions of what lie in the deep. A twenty foot tall ancient metal gear is outlandish even by my fantasy, along with other man sized automatons."
Tolfdir said, "I had gotten word just today about a Thane in robes, I'm not the fastest on word so that's why I didn't recognize you. But nothing about that, and I can see why."
Jon offered to start on the path, and said, "Yeah, Farengar sent a letter of recommendation, but kept my confidence. I don't mind people knowing, but I don't need half of every town, and every guard, bowing at the sight of me. Oh, I'll tell you as well, I'm from another world. One without magic, just got here a fortnight ago, or thereabouts. Don't know how, flash of light and I was getting fucked by a dragon an hour later."
Tolfdir took a deep breath of the ice cold air, feeling good on his older bones, "Incredible. No wonder you offered that point in the spar. Did you think us divine, at least when you first saw magic?"
Jon said, "I think Divines, divine. They have real power indistinguishable from godhood, like possibly transporting me here, and turning me into a different species, but oh at the moment of my conception in a lab on another world apparently, and kept it hidden from the finest minds that ever lived. I was crafted by an Arch-Alchemist. Not exactly the right term, but it's not far off either. Other than that, we have centuries, millennia, of myth about things magical. It was never real, or someone would have weaponized it and conquered. We would have evidence."
Tolfdir has a lot to come to terms with there, "Powerful alchemy like you speak of, now that is fantasy. There are many things that can be done, but crafting a person from the moment of conception is not one of them except though some kind of divinity. You really are from another world. Are you sure you're still in the same Plane, Mundus?"
Jon said, "No clue. All I know is there wasn't magic on Earth."
Tolfdir lightly swung, "Are you sure your people weren't cursed by your gods? I imagine it would be well within their power to do something like take magika away."
Jon smirked, "Is it? If all the Divines and gods got together and took magika away, then what would happen to the world itself that developed around magika? It's in the air, food, and water, the rocks even."
Tolfdir conceded the point. Jon continued with an olive branch, "As it stands, I would say that It might be possible. If I'm from another Plane, which again we have myth and stories about, for entertainment, then it's the same deal. Our world would have evolved around it, but it didn't. If I'm still in Mundus, why would they? And if our gods were even real, how would a Divine pluck me out from under them? Some kind of deal? Speculation once again pointless. That Worm is going to fucking die."
Tolfdir scoffed, "I believe, young man. With as fast as you killed the one that just attacked? Incredible. And leaping across the roof tops? You too J'zargo. Did your creator make you to be superior, or is it the dragon blood?"
Jon kept his wince. He didn't like talking about it, but he knew he needed too. Where else are conversations going to go when he reads people in. He said, "Second generation super-soldier program. Again not exactly the truth, as we were supposed to be the next evolution of humanity, but that's basically it. The greatest of the first generation wanted more officers for his planned war to conquer Earth. His maker was only too happy to continue his original work and life's achievement side by side with his superior son. Dr. Noonien-Singh, may his name be spit on."
Jon didn't want to literally curse the man, he wasn't that petty, and the Dr. had at least one good legacy, Jon hopped. Khan? Curse him. Curse him straight to Oblivion, bare foot, and see how he survives as compared to some random fucking prisoner. His arrogance wouldn't allow him to survive. Wait, lets be honest, the prisoner wasn't random. Shit, Lydia, put right in his path. Like she would care. She was a literal demi-goddess now, on the grandest adventure any shield-maiden ever went on, Jon smelled. Her lost family would probably be proud. That doesn't make it right.
Tolfdir spit, "You used what you were given against them, there is no doubt. To abuse the power of godhood so. Farengar actually sent me a personal note asking me to help you in any way I can, as quickly as possible. Checking my box is how I got the word. Now I can see why. I don't know how you got here, but we can literally thank the Divines you did, and use your gifts honorably. You could have most of Skyrim bowing to you as a Divine, and its a credit to who you are that you refuse to let them."
Jon smiled, his eyes hooded, "Thanks Professor. I needed to hear that."
The footpath along the way was well tread by previous work crews and scholars, so the Party made good time to the Saarthal, arrived only a half hour after they had original planed. Tolfdir and Jon passed the rest of the time looking at the ward spell.
It was obvious what Farengar did. He made a laminate out of the ward, stacking the surface area of the normal cast layer after layer, in the caster's palm. But the way Tolfdir talked, they didn't actually understand that. They assumed if you just put more power into the palm cast, project it out, it should work, and they couldn't figure out why it wouldn't. They didn't understand that the ward was a ward, and you needed more ward if you wanted to get more ward. The power you put into it was only a variable for how sturdy you can make the ward in the first place at cast, and how long you can keep the cast up, not how much ward you have. This version of the spell wouldn't do it. He felt like laws of conservation were being observed here, again.
This was interesting to Jon. Is Earth in Mundus? Some kind of Space, or Subspace, anomaly bleeding magika from Aetherius into Nirn? Extra energy that can be used to bend the laws of Physics, and give space aliens god-like powers? As primitive as these people seem at a glance, they have literally fought, and won, multiple inter-dimensional wars. With swords and fucking bows, their gods standing with them for death or glory. If the damaged Graybeard history scraps that he read were correct, the Worm was actually sent forward in time by the Tongues, so he was in the middle of a temporal one. Maybe that is why the Worm doesn't currently understand the situation he's in. No time has passed for him, or even the ones he revives.
J'zargo and Lydia were throwing fireballs around while Jon kept the professor distracted. J'zargo was tutoring Lydia with his knowledge of destruction magics, and every spell she threw, safely into snowbanks, was more powerful. Nary a word from J'zargo was missed by Jon, and he knew the sharp Professor was happy to play the distracted master while his rambunctious apprentices horsed around literally behind his back. Both men were also happy to continue the charade that the Professor was actually the Party leader.
Just before getting to the entrance, just in sight, Jon halted the Party. About to come over the hill was a frost troll, he could smell and just hear. It was still a ways away but charging with reckless abandon to the wrong people.
Praise Darwin, Jon thought, "Firing line, set!"
The Party lined up, "Fire-balls, ready!"
They readied their balls of fire, "Aim"
They aimed their balls, "Fire!"
They fired their spells into the charging beast, charring its hide, and removing it from the gene pool as dictated by Terran druidic practices.
Before they finally entered the tomb, Tolfdir said, "What an invigorating, and relatively safe way, to test full power applications. Didn't stand a chance. Excellent discussion by the way. I'll send our findings to Farengar, perhaps he will give it another go."
Jon said, "I know he will."
Just inside the entrance of the crypt, there was an ancient guard-post of an adequate size for a couple cots and a mess table. The Party took advantage of the mess table and ate their fill of provisions. Jon's pemmican was a hit, especially with J'zargo, vowing to take the recipe back to his clan, and Jon suggesting he buy the full book it came from. When the Khajiit read the advance copy on some rest before entering deeper, he agreed.
At the edge of the main hall, Jon was impressed with the relatively well lit area, using mage-light powered by soul gems to sustain it. Depending on the origin of these soul gems, water systems, well crafted but not printed books that anyone can buy, plenty of food, not to many in beggars rags. It was like these people were in their renaissance, about to go industrial, and then a bunch of mammoth shit happened to set them back. Intelligent design, Jon thought. Wait till they get a load of me, he also thought. How many times are others going to say it, before he believes it. I, am, superior.
Superiority comes with some costs, and he didn't know if he wanted to trust his weight on the sometimes already damaged paths that lead to the ground floor, and to the different levels of the living and market quarters.
He attacked, "These paths have been tread?"
Tolfdir immediately conceded, "Yes, but I suspect with the Party's overall weight it might be a little tricky. I honestly did not think about that. I was so excited to share the find."
Jon said, "I have an idea, but you have to bear with me."
Tolfdir nodded, and Jon pulled out the Sanguine Rose. Tolfdir said, "My goodness, you must get around. That's the personal staff of Prince Sanguine! Just like the tomes said!"
Jon nodded, but he had an issue he needed to resolve, "Lydia, probably should have told you earlier, but I am the Champion of a Deadric Prince, and in the running for another. Sorry. That's kind of a big thing."
Lydia said, "When did that happen? Ivarstead, after I retired?"
Jon smiled warmly, "You have it. He said he was just giving it to me to use in the fight. Summons a Dremora Lord, his personal attendant. Also gave me a good bottle of booze we can now share."
Lydia shrugged, "It its not my place to question my handsome Thane, especially over good booze."
Jon snickered and J'zargo dejectedly said, "And J'zargo thought there was competition here. J'zargo will resign. Losing is no fun."
Jon's party laughed, and Tolfdir said, "Well he is said to be the Prince of fun. A Daedra with all of their quirks, but not evil in the slightest like others are. Even the Vigils leave him and his followers alone, and they are the guild that deals with all things Daedra."
Jon nodded, "And Farengar recommend I not advertise interaction with Daedra, but I trust the Party."
Tolfdir said, "Farengar was good student, wise beyond his youth. Like you all are. I'm glad you're here. Now I imagine your plan is to sent a fully armed and armored Dremora Lord across to test the sturdiness of the path. only a few people have been in and out, and not outfitted as heavily as the Party is."
Jon said, "After I share a few words. If it collapses, that sucks, but then you know you had a ticking time bomb waiting to happen."
Tolfdir nodded, "Excellent plan. Why the words though?"
Jon answered, "I like to talk, and conjuration feels near to fucking slavery, and I want to sus it out before I send a man over an untested bridge."
Tolfdir nodded in supreme respect, and Jon cast the staff. A near seven foot tall Dremora Lord formed from the black, instead of the normal purple, maw of lighting and magical energy. He was in full Daedric plate, sans helmet, and the broadsword indeed look like It weighed as much as Jon. His face was ash gray, covered in tattooed Daedric runes, mer ears, small horns at the top of his forehead.
These people fought his people with swords and fucking bows. Barefoot. With a box's worth of scrap. Would he have survived without Divine intervention? Because there was no way he wouldn't storm the gates if he woke up in a prison cell instead of a cart.
The Lord's eyes shot around, his senses extending. No challengers were near, but his Lord's Party was. He gave a toothy smile and a bow, "Master, it is a pleasure to meet you under calmer circumstances. I am your personal attendant."
Jon said, "Please, the bow is unnecessary, and call me Thane."
He shot back up, ramrod straight, regally standing. He said, "Of course, Thane, my apologies, how may I serve you."
Jon asked, "Do you have a name?"
He shook his head. Jon asked, "Do, you want, one?"
He shook his head again with an evil grin. Jon guessed, "Your a Blood-Made-Pleasure kind of guy, huh?"
His smile was wider, and he nodded slowly. Jon asked, "So whats the deal with this? The Lesser Daedra as a whole enjoy this, not just your type of fun people? It's complete slavery and abuse by my standards."
The Daedric Lord explained, "We were made to serve, Thane. It is what we do. If we do not want to serve, we become lords, not Lords like I am, mind you."
Jon asked, "Yeah, but serving me, and probably most other mortals, means being summoned and dying over and over again."
He took another shark smile, "Please do, Thane. I and all other Lesser Daedra will go back to our realms, to be summoned again when required. I and others are tied to staffs, some spells. We are old, Thane. Ancient even by Prince and Divine standards. Serving mortals is fun, usually. More interesting things to kill. Those that become lords like to rub it in Princely faces that they have an easier time getting to the land of mortals than they do. The lords are often themselves conjured. Armies of Lesser are banned, Princes, but not individual Lessers. Do realize serving mortals isn't the only thing we do. Just one of the things."
Jon conceded the point, "You have a whole society and culture that goes back to the literal beginning of fucking time, and this is deeply apart of it. Alright. I need you to walk the paths ahead of us, make sure it wont collapse from weight. Also be advised, there's a word wall in here I can feel, so expect dragon worshiping Draugr as well."
Another shark smile, and a one handed pull of his broadsword, "I hope there are, Thane."
Tolfdir said, "Sir, please try not to scare Professor Gane. He is down there somewhere. If he see's you, just say you're with Tolfdir. I can also say we have killed a few Draugr in this part of the Tomb, and checked every coffin we can find. We're reasonably certain there are no more, but we haven't gone deeper yet."
Jon didn't hesitate to nod his head, and the Lord bowed his. He slowly walked over off onto the bridge system, feeling each step and the sturdiness of it. His Thane ordered him to test the path, not make good time over it. It would do for him to fail his Thane on their first meeting by not testing every inch, and having his Thane's Party fall into the deep from something he missed.
His broadsword was held casually, ready for any challengers, and he also kept a keen eye about him, searching for any, and to identify the location of Professor Gane. As far as the he was concerned, the Professor was apart of the Thane's Party as well. His Thane would not like any of his Party dying either. That's why he was a Lord, despite serving. Because he could still think for himself, and thus received the blessings of his Prince. Not many of his kind could, and thus there were not many Lords, or lords for that matter.
While the Lord did his work, Tolfdir said, "You truly are wise beyond your youth, young man. Not many would ask such questions or think in such a way. Not many would have the courage to casually speak to their own conjures. Simply summon them for combat or experiment."
Jon shrugged, "That's a person, an impossibly ancient one. If this is literally the only way they can get out of the house and have fun, then sure I guess. But I don't like the idea of just being handed a personal slave stick without at least questioning the concept."
Tolfdir nodded, "If only more thought as you did. We cant get Nirnians to see fellow Nirnians as people, let alone Daedra"
Jon said, "It was the same way back home. People never really uniting unless there was a common threat, but Divines help you if they did. Humans of Earth are savage killers, a bloodthirsty warrior inside every one when pushed, starved, beaten. I told Khan that. The one time I spoke to him after I defected. I told him that our ability is their potential. That he was underestimating them constantly. Shit didn't change. I kept Butchering his forces, he kept losing and not just to me. I wasn't the only brave soul on Earth."
Tolfdir shook his head, "So much is lost from such folly. It saddens me to see its a constant anywhere."
Jon gave a 'what can you do' shrug and the Lord said, "The path is so far sturdy, Thane. I recommend some spacing in your Party until you get to this platform, however, to be sure."
That was another reason he was a Lord, making recommendations. He always quietly, heretically, thanked the Divines his Prince was Sam, a fun man always willing to hear recommendations. It was his little secret that Sam liked to Make Pleasure from his Blood with.
Jon said, "Excellent idea. Professor?"
He gave a smile and nodded, "Indeed. Lets make way and I'll tell you what we know so far once we get to the first platform, and the Attendant tests the next path, our destination is the ground floor, by the way."
Jon nodded to the Attendant. And the Party cautiously advanced with Tolfdir at the front. When they reached the platform he said, "Now, this is the main living quarters and common area of Saarthal. This is the oldest 'city' in Skyrim. Built by Ysgramor and the original settlers that followed him into fleeing Atmora."
Jon asked, "There's a wall here. They came over worshiping the dragons?"
Tolfdir said, "Indeed they did. When they came, they brought their gods with them. History as to how they came to worship them in the first place is completely lost. We're hopping to find some here. What is on the Walls? Can you read the script?"
Jon said, "Indeed, and they have so far been epitaphs about the overseers of the tomb. Short, really. I'll look at any script we find, for sure. Its weird though, I can't read it until I see it. The only words I know are the ones I've seen. Then there is always a word of power on the walls. I take its knowledge. You'll see it, if we find it."
J'zargo said, "Why did the Atmorans leave Atmora?"
Tolfdir said, "The continent completely froze over more than it already was, and now It's the Atmoran Ice Cap. None can survive the journey to measure it, but most think its a magical anomaly driving it. They had no choice but to flee, and Ysgramor lead the first wave here."
Jon said, "No doubt to preform reconnaissance. Secure land and supplies for the rest, scout potential enemies. Ysgramor was smart, a leader of men. Probably saw the Crisis coming early, and acted early. It would be foolish to bring your entire population over in one go. As you may be able to see, assuming only what needed to be disturbed was disturbed, a good assumption, this place has been sacked; Hard; Total death; The attackers didn't even loot. I can smell the blood stains, see them seeped into the stone. Everywhere among the rubble."
The Lord said, "As can I, Thane. Your genius is obvious. The next path is clear."
Tolfdir nodded, "Indeed. I'll explain a little more when we cross."
The Party advanced, Lydia basking all the while and Jon smelling it, liking it. Tolfdir said, "That is basically what we know. This place was sacked by the Falmer, or Snow-Elves. It's what drove them into the loving arms of the Dwemer."
Lydia spoke this time, after spending enough time around Jon, "Fuck those guys"
Tolfdir said, "They were not kind. Ysgramor went back to Atmora and rallied the 500 Companions to come back and sack their cities one by one, killing every Falmer, and conquering the Skyrim surface for what became the Nords. It was unfortunate that it had to happen that way. The thing is, we don't know why it happened! The Histories Of Ysgramor swear, literally swear with his blood print on the Declaration of Vengeance, that Atmorans were developing good relations, and that the attack was unprovoked! Its one of the few pages that survived though to the Companions in Whiterun. There was healthy trade, cultural exchange. Why the Falmer would simply show up and massacre the city is unknown."
J'zargo said, "Another thing you are hoping to find, no doubt."
Tolfdir said, "In addition we are interested in the magical artifacts were, and seals on the tombs. There is something every so slightly off about them."
The Lord said, "The next path is clear. I have also detected a life by spell. It is possibly Professor Gane, but assumptions can be rash."
Another reason he was a Lord, initiative and some offered wisdom. Should he be a lord when this mortal is done with him? But then he would give the Pleasure. He wanted the Pleasure done to him. Wait, he could order others to give the Pleasure. But they wouldn't be Sam. But it's Sam, fool, he would always give to his Lord.
Tolfdir nodded, "You are exactly as wise as your years, sir."
Jon nodded. A toothy smile took to the Lord.
They finally got to the ground floor among the rubble of the settlement. When they did Tolfdir called out, "Professor Gane?"
Gane called out, "Yeah. Just a second."
Tolfdir said, "Alright, we have a Dremora Lord here, just so you know. A conjurer from one of my apprentices."
Gane said as he was walking out, "One of your apprentices conjured a Drem- holy shit one of them did."
Jon said, "Came from a staff, in fairness. How long do you last by the way?"
The Lord smiled, Jon gave a dirty look to answer the fucking question, and the smile was wider. Would this mortal and his mortal give the Pleasure? "A staff is always longer, Thane. A couple hours, but you can always recast in that case. You can also order me to dispel and recast to reset my time. I love that actually. It is almost like the Pleasure."
Jon didn't need to know that. Gane said, "Powerful staff. Well, we're looking specifically for magic artifacts and barriers right now. I was picking though a rubble pile after finding a ring. Not clean work, but the more artifacts we have, the more we can study and compare. Something about the enchantments is different. Weren't you planning to bring the class, Tolfdir?"
Tolfdir said, "A dragon attacked Winterhold, but thank the Divines that the Dragonborn happened to be in the city. They slew the thing in less than five minutes, and the crisis was over with literally no harm done. It was incredible. I only saw from a distance though. The trip was officially canceled, but I was coming anyway, and these Intrepid Three would not be deterred."
Gane shook his head in wonderment, "Thank the Divines indeed no one was hurt, and they were there. At least you have a full party, thanks for showing up. Try not to move anything just yet on your searches. I've found artifacts in standing rubble piles that will need cleaned anyway, so start there."
The Party spread out and began hunting for anything magical or enchanted. The Lord even carefully walked around, calling out piles of rubble with artifacts in them, always letting one of the Party dig though and make the finds. The Professor was right. Not many thought as his Thane did. Him exploring a tomb filled with such wondrous destruction, more than just killing enemies of his current master and dispelling when it was over? This mortal was fun. As fun as Sam if he would give the Pleasure.
Jon knew where he was going. He felt where the echo of the wall was coming from. Into a larger side chamber, and into a back corridor was an amulet of a particular look. Also a magic barrier. He hadn't entered the room yet, seeing the gate ready to trap, but did peak around the corner and saw the way deeper into the crypt.
"Found something!" He yelled normally, thank the Divines.
Jon spent a few minutes eating more provisions. He saved his Pemmican, and took to some fruits and cheese instead, along with some water. Lydia was doing much the same when she walked into the room with the Party, and they smiled at each other warmly.
"What did you find?"
"Yes, what is it."
"Hi Jon"
"Sup Lydia"
"Thane, your detecting abilities are once again proven. Well done, sir."
"There's a barrier tied to an amulet in there. Didn't get a good look because I only peaked in. I know in my hardened bones pulling the amulet triggers the gate trap, which also probably has a barrier tied to it."
Tolfdir said, "Yes, caution is very much warranted here. The amulet would trigger the gate, but what about the barrier?"
J'zargo said, "Maybe the barrier can be disabled with magic. Hit it with a spell, though it could also react violently, perhaps a reflection of some kind."
Lydia said, "How about the Thu'um. I mean they did worship dragons. So they put a barrier up that only people who know the Thu'um could pass through."
Jon nodded, "Overseers, priests, and such. Professor?"
Tolfdir smiled, almost having a tear in his eye, "If you're confident, Jon."
The lord said, "Would you like me to escort you, Thane, or stay with the Party?"
Jon said, "With me. It was just a doorway it looked like. In case 100 Draugr decide to rush though. That's a small door. I give them a blast, and you hold it while we bravely run away."
The Lord laughed demonically, and the rest of the party followed as Jon and his Attendant walked into the corridor to inspect the door more closely. The amulet was tribal, its center charm being a large rectangular piece of bone with ancient Atmoran script. Some feathers and various other bits of bones and teeth were woven into the leather that made the necklace. The carvings in the stone were appealing, but were meaningless as the ones in the claw door rooms. There was so far no dragon-script to read.
He pulled the strange amulet and the gate to the entrance of the passage was dropped, and it indeed had a barrier on it. The only way though was though now. Jon took a deep centering breath, taking full control of himself in a way only an Augment could. He let out the breath, his Dragon's-Breath, and the strands of ethereal Divine power, blue white with a ting of orange, were sent forth from his very tongue. Fine control, was his ploy. Not of any specific word or shout. Those were weapons. This was The Truth. His Divinity. He might as well just fucking go for it, at this point. Great fucking idea you had there, Akatosh. Make an Augment a god.
The Attendant stared in muted fascination, Jon could smell. Like he was witnessing the birth of a Divine. He missed that, thank the Divines. Jon blew a short breath on the edge of the barrier, and it snapped apart, while leaving the stone carvings in place. The gate also immediately shot up.
Tolfdir came in and said, "I didn't hear a shout. What did you do?"
Jon said, "I used the power itself, not a word. Experimenting with fine Thu'um control. Blew a breath on it so I could preserve the carvings for you to inspect. I will have to shout it down to advance, unfortunately."
Tolfdir chucked, "See what happens when you listen to the Professor? Could Talos do that?"
Jon said, "He significantly damaged an ebony post forged in dragon fire, after extensive training. I blew it apart on my first shout. Lydia?"
Lydia smiled and showed her eyes. Tolfdir hadn't caught those yet. He exclaimed, "My goodness! You blessed her!"
Jon sand, "I remade her, Professor. In my own image. Augment with Dovah blood, compared to Dovah with Augment blood. Unfortunately on accident. I thought when I used a full power shout or yell the strands of power were bleed off, inefficiency in my usage. They weren't."
Tolfdir understandingly stammered, "Th-That means,"
Jon nodded, with an uncertain expression, "A Living Divine. The only conclusion I can come to. Akatosh didn't just pick a new Dragonborn. That was the catalyst, no way he couldn't have known where this was going with all the juice I got in me. Crafted by technological alchemy, basically the physical manifestation of the definition of a demi-god on my world, then given real Divine power like another on this world before me?"
Tolfdir slowly shook his head, "I can't believe it. I can, because they did it before! But I still can't! A second Divine of Man! A Living one! Ha!"
The Lord bowed deeply, once in a Dremoa's long lifetime heresy for later Pleasure that Sam would love, "I will not bow again, as you have ordered, but I must apologize, Thane. I thought of you as a mortal, and you are not. I felt what you just did, the stench of it. Your deductive capabilities are boundless."
J'zargo said, "Well J'zargo guesses that confirms it."
Lydia smiled, "I knew."
Tolfdir aloofly said, "Well I thank his grace for considering us mortals, and our need to study history before it gets shouted apart."
"Anything for you, Professor. Hail Tolfdir's-Party!" Jon called.
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!" The Party responded, Dremora included.
Tolfdir needed a moment alone, "How about you all go out for some rest. Ill need a little time with this, as I'll only get one shot at it."
The honor and glory of this day! Watching a Living Divine experiment and figure himself out! And its in his name! He's tutoring the Living Divine, his friend Jon, though it! Hail Tolfdir's-Party! What will they find or learn next!
The rest of the Party walked back into the side-chamber and took up residence on the still standing ancient seating, once again picking at some provisions. The snarl-smiling Attendant was dispelled with a dismissive wave, and a threatening promise that he would be called when needed again. Jon knew what the B-M-P enthusiast would do as soon as he got back to his realm. Jon knew what he would do when Tolfdir was done in not that long.
The chatted for about an hour when the Party leader called them again. Jon said, "Bet a coin that we catch the Attendant in the act, and he says something about it."
"J'zargo will lose not a single coin to you."
Lydia said, "Fools bet!"
Jon laughed maniacally as he cast the staff, controlling his Thu'um now that he learned how. He was still laughing when the Attendant was summoned rocking on his knees, and begging in Daedra tongue, which Jon could understand.
He cried, "Master! My Thane! Lord Jon! I was at the Moment! The Moment you foul Divine! Its Pleasure! Oh, it's Pleasure in a different way! Thank you Master! I understand! You understand!"
Jon snapped, "Rise, you cantankerous cur! The members of Tolfdir's-Party stand proudly!"
The Lords snapped ram-rod straight near instantly. Jon could see and smell the twitching he was trying to control, obviously a demonic orgasm after being so ruthlessly edged. The Attendant took a centering breath and said, "My apologies, Thane. How may I serve."
Jon smirked, "Not necessary, I knew what I was doing, Attendant. We're about to move through, can't do that without our last Party member."
The Attendant perked up a bit, with a, rare, genuinely warm smile. He hated the Pain, but a little bit was never a bad thing given by dare he say firends, "By your will, Thane."
The Party entered the corridor, with a still chuckling Tolfdir beckoning them in. Jon took his position in front of the now properly analyzed stone. The Lord brought up the rear, with Tolfdir and Lydia beside him, J'zargo in the middle of the pack where he liked to be. The carvings were very detailed, and Jon was shamed he had to break the thing apart with a Divine hammer. But what if he didn't use it like a hammer.
Jon said, "Fine Thu'um control. That's what I was experimenting with."
Tolfdir sagely said, "You want to preserve as much of the carvings as possible. Not just bust though. What did you have in mind?"
Jon said, "When I debated the dragon. I didn't blast him full power, I tweaked with the balance, and introduced resonance in the shout. That resonance vibrated his main wing joint apart to ground him. Dislocated it."
Tolfdir nodded, "That wont do for the wall here, obviously, but I imagine that resonance would look like waves, and you want to control the waves. Slice though in as few pieces as possible. The question is how?"
Jon nodded eagerly, "It does. I can't just use the first force word, because that's a hammer on this stone. I have to use the second balance word. It will be more power overall, but you need the power to slice though. I keep the Big Three in mind, always, so when I did it on the dragon, I just thought of it as turning a nob slightly to throw the balance of the shout off, and then vocalized it in the dragon tongue. Don't ask me to explain that one." He made a quick motion to indicate what he meant.
Tolfdir like the sound of the Big Three, and he would use it. He nodded, "Well, maybe try visualizing the exact shape you want to make? Like a straight cut though."
Jon nodded thoughtfully, "I would have to throw the balance off, to create a single wave in the first place, and think about tuning that. I actually have just the shape that should be easy to recreate."
Tolfdir said, "All right, lets see what you got."
Jon thought about it for just another moment, "Fus Ro!" and a perfect sine wave was cut though the stone, with minimal loss of material. It was even in place, ready to be extracted. Jon was the Chosen of Akatosh for reason.
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!" Tolfdir exclaimed with an upraised fist.
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!" The rest returned.
Tolfdir said, "Okay, now I'm going to extract this by telekinesis."
"Can J'zargo have one?
"Can I?"
"Me too, please."
Tolfdir chucked, I actually brought a few extra Tomes in my pack, in case someone in the class needed it to move things. The weight makes good exercise when I walk, seeing as how these old bones aren't good for much other. Carry it with me almost everywhere, so I always have a few extra spells. Usually I would sell them, but these are Party resources right now, as far as I'm concerned."
The Party all took their fill of the professors stash, him letting them take more than just the one spell. John even picked out an Ebonyflesh spell to replace his Oakflesh, in case he did need actual magic armor.
Tolfdir moved the stone, trusting his Party implicitly to practice their spells safely. The rest all practiced the new spells with some bits of coin and gems Jon offered. He could always share his hoard with his friends and shield-maiden. Jon also tried the Ebonyflesh, and had Lydia give him some taps with the flat of her sword. It worked just like how he expected the armor to work, magical energy pushing the blade away. It could still be overcome, obviously, but to just have full body armor like this, on demand, that could also augment other armor, was ludicrous to Jon. He guessed they had a little more than a box's worth of scrap to fight literal hell itself with. Lydia, a battle-mage, they both thought, and she smelled.
When it was done Tolfdir said, "Alright, the way is clear, its a more narrow passage than the rest of the halls, and it has not been ventured into. Expect danger. Perhaps the Attendant can continue to clear the path."
Jon nodded, and menacingly chuckled, "And I'll be behind him. If they get through him, they wont like what they find next."
The Attendants chuckle was a little more than, with a touch more menace. This Living Divine was just a fun as Sam, even if he probably wouldn't use the Blood to Make the Pleasure. He didn't seem like that kind of Divine, and that was his Thane's prerogative. He took his position at the beginning of the passage.
Tolfdir said, "Alright Lydia, hold the rear, and J'zargo in the middle with me. Lets proceed slowly, now."
The Attendant didn't think he would have to wait for his Thane's orders at this point. The Thane had obviously ceded some authority to the wizened Professor, so he took to the front and began to clear the path. He could already hear it, smell it, not see it just yet, but challengers were near. He knew also his Thane could detect them too. He almost hopped he died and they found what was behind him. There will be so much heresy for the Pleasure, Jon and Lydia smelled. J'zargo always could too, but he kept it to himself. It was a part of life and love in the clans. The Dremora involved was novel though, J'zargo thought.
The Attendant indeed handled his broadsword like a fencing blade. Down the narrow passage, Draugr challengers charged forth, three in the line, and the Attendant jogged for a couple steps, one hand impaling them on his broadsword. A contemptuous boot cleared the blade of the Challengers.
It was like that for the rest of the crypt. There would be a few Draugr for the Attendant to slay, a few for the Thane to slay with his bow. A couple obvious puzzle doors, that the Attendant would pull the mechanism for, hoping the traps would spring because the solution wasn't obvious. It was always obvious, and his Thane was a genius, a Divine genius. The heresy of such thoughts! Pleasure!
Eventually there was a problem. He said, "Thane."
Jon said, "Yeah, I can smell it. Hundred Draugr or more behind that next door."
Tolfdir's said, "Oh my, that is a lot of Draugr to hack, slash, and spell our way though. I suppose there would be more of them given that this is a city, and not a tomb to a sect like most are."
"J'zargo is ready if the Party is."
"Jon."
Jon nodded, "Yeah. The Barrow we went though together. I ordered Draugr to die, and they did. I would probably have to get them kneeling first."
Tolfdir nodded, "You are a dragon, and they worshiped dragons. The question is do you want to do that?"
Jon shrugged, "I've already done it once before, and I don't see it as making myself their god. More like giving those petty souls some peace. The last time was a little more forceful, so lets try a more softer of an approach. Maybe I if pretend to be some sort of sage master, then eventually I'll be one."
Tolfdir chucked, lowly so as not to make too much noise. He said, "I assure you, young man, that's basically all there is too it. And I think you're pretty close."
"As do I, Thane." More Heresy! Every word to him is it's own Heresy! More pleasure! There had been anything new for so long because all he could physically do is thank the Divines for Sam! Now he can talk to one! One that wants to talk to him! Hail Tolfdir's-Party!
Jon opened the iron door and stepped foot inside. There was another door at the other end of the hall, behind an overseer's casket. Lining the walls of the long passage was well over 100 Draugr, and the moment Jon stepped inside. Their lids clattered and oftentimes broke on the ground. The moaning started, and the hall was lined with a blue hateful glow. The overseer of this part of the tomb was also getting out of his casket. He had a helmet with longer horns on it.
"FUS RO DAH" Jon shot down the hall, not hitting any Draugr, but making his point all the same.
All except one took to their knees. Their god had returned for them. The overseer was adamant, however, to make his own reply. He could control the Thu'um too. He charged down the hall, "FU-"
"FUS RO DAH" Why did every enemy take so long to enunciate, especially on that first word.
The Draugr sunk down further into their knees at the power of their god's Thu'um. Jon said with Dragon's-Breath, "Kos Ahst Drem, Fahdons." He read what script he could at High Hrothgar.
All the weapons in the hall clattered to the floor. Would they go to Sovngarde? They didn't know, didn't care. Their friend had given them final peace.
Tolfdir came though and stood at silence for the dead. After a moment, "It is an honor to see this, you becoming what you are. Incredible. You, young man, are a sage master. I'm only sorry it cost you so much."
Jon nodded while Lydia put a hand on his shoulder, "Yeah. Me to."
Almost every immediately noticed the sky blue glow behind the door as soon as they stepped in the room. As soon as Tolfdir got in range, he said, "My goodness what is that?"
The Attendant said, "The source of the magical disturbances here, the different energy. Its behind that door." He knew his Thane didn't mind him speaking out of turn. He was a proud member of Tolfdir's-Party, and he would surely boast of it when not being given the Pleasure. He would boast of it then too.
Jon said, "It's like a different flavor of magika, more primordial almost. But that's all I get, other than the color."
Tolfdir said, "I cant feel what you feel. But you've certainly helped visualize it for me. I know it's a powerful source of Magika, but all I can tell is a different color. That's how we knew the artifacts were different in the first place. We felt sky-blue, not the usual navy-blue. It was just Magika otherwise."
Jon walked up and put his ear to the iron door. He said, "Other than the hum, no awake Draugr, yet."
Tolfdir agreed, "Yet. Can you get in quietly?"
Jon slowly nodded with an evil grin, and the Attendant had his own. Jon slowly opened the door opened door and peaked inside. The room was large, circular, and in the center sat a pale blue green orb feet in diameter and pulsing with sky blue energy throughout its carved designs and runes. Three pillars surrounded it and in between the posts was a field of sky blue magika.
There were only actually five Draugr in the room. One was sitting on a throne in front of an embalming table, and the others in open caskets. While he didn't want to steal all the glory from the rest of Tolfdir's-Party, he also knew that Tolfdir would want him to take the enemy out quickly and quietly, if he could. And he could. What if that final overseer has some way to connect with, and use this more primal magika he was tasting?
He couldn't risk the safety of the rest of the Party. This mission was academic, not one of glory-seeking. A quick and quiet cast of his bow, thank the Divines for it, and five pulls ended the last five guards of the Saarthal crypt, never seeing their Doom That Approaches.
He slipped back out the door and said, "Five targets neutralized. Room clear." and he smelled Lydia. He let her smell him in response.
The Party steeped into the room proper and stated in wonder at the strange glowing orb in the center of the chamber. Tolfdir said, "What is this thing? Fascinating! Let me try to get this energy barrier down.
Tolfdir got to work while the other members spread out, not toughing anything, but seeing what they could see. Lydia walked with Jon and gave him a quick peck, "Thanks for not looting your way though this particular tomb. I know that took a lot of restraint."
Jon smiled, "Oh I am taking something. Not walking away empty handed. The wall is just past that last door. I bet there is treasure there. And that staff looks sweet."
Lydia smiled as well. She would take the loot there too, and the staff looked powerful, like other staffs Jon carries with him. Jon picked up the staff, and it looked like they had braided driftwood, 3 branches, and the thing eventually flared out at end with gnarled tips, like lighting cast in wood. Jon picked a safe spot, a flat empty wall, and fired away, sending sky-blue lighting crashing into the stone.
Tolfdir turned away, not making any progress, and said, "What did you find?"
Jon said, "Lighting staff, but shoots sky-blue like the artifact. Maybe it can bring down the barrier? Have you made any headway there?"
Tolfdir shook his head, "No, but J'zargo did suggest shooting a spell at it, at least to see what happens, though you do always seem to always suggest shooting spells at things."
The Party chuckled, the Attendant evilly, and J'zargo said, "Many problems can be solved by shooting spells, like shooting a spell from a lighting staff using the same kind of magika as the barrier and artifact. J'zargo will admit that not every problem can be solved that way, however."
Tolfdir nodded, "Well give it a go, everyone stand back."
Jon waited for the Party to take to his rear before saying, "Fire in the hole."
He cast the lighting from the staff, and it struck the ancient barrier, dispelling it in a snap. No sooner than it did, he immediately noticed the ambient dust particles floating at a dead stop in the air. Time was frozen. A ploy of Akatosh? Lets be real, can anything they do be classified as a ploy, anything less than a Grand Design? He looked behind him and saw the Party about to cheer their cadence in unison, but frozen in place just as the fists were coming up.
He the felt the presence at his front. He snapped his head back around, unfriendly look in his eye, and the staff held at the ready against the new potential foe. The man was an Altmer with a knotted beard. Good wizards had beards, he thought. He had been shaving his face with his dagger, but he should ask Lydia what she thinks. First the man in open yellow robes and a deep hood must be dealt with.
Jon decided to let the man have a word first. He didn't judge a threat, but he was still ready. The man held up a hand and said, "Hold, mage. I mean you no harm. Listen well, know that you have set in motion a Chain Of Events That Cannot Be Stopped."
Jon eased his stance, and the staff, but wasn't about to let this still potential battle be one sided. He said, "Okay, what do I have to do, and if I may ask, who are you?"
The man raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback. Most that set in motion Chains Of Events were not so willing to carry them out. "I represent the Psijic Order. All you must do is stay your current path. You alone have the potential to meet the dangers ahead and prevent disaster. Judgment has not been passed, as you had no way of knowing, but judgment will be passed on your actions to come. The Psijic Order is watching, and we believe in you, mage."
Jon nodded. He assumed this communication would take great effort, stopping time and whatnot, and would only get some final words in, but they would be the final words. He said, "Thank you for your warning, and your confidence. If you could, ponder the question of a Living Divine, and perhaps spare a few words of counsel for a one when next we speak, please."
The man raised his eyebrow even further. This was new, not something they saw coming or happen. The Dragonborn being chosen yes, but a full Living Divine, the first such, no. Much pondering would be done indeed. He gave a polite nod to the polite Living Divine before vanishing and restoring the proper flow of time in the room.
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
"Jon, what just happened." Lydia said.
"Yes, J'zargo felt it as well."
"There was a challenger, but I couldn't see or hear or move to face him. I could only sense him."
"I felt it too. Just as the barrier snapped. We are not crazy." Tolfdir said, for his benefit or others didn't matter.
Jon said, "Time stopped and a man claiming to be from the Psijic Order came with a few words. That there was a great danger ahead, and that we, specifically I, should keep our current heading. He said I alone had the potential to meet whatever is coming. Probably because I was Dragonborn. He seemed surprised that I was a Living Divine. He didn't say anything about what this thing is, or what happened here."
Tolfdir looked shocked, "The Psijic Order! Why, they literally haven't been seen in an age! They disappeared at the onset of the Oblivion Crisis. They were a powerful order, and no doubt got more powerful wherever they went. Incredible. This adventure does not stop. Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party" They responded.
Lydia said, "So can we trust this Order?"
Tolfdir nodded, "I would say. They only deal with those they deem worthy. They are arrogant, from the history, but not dishonorable. If they said there is danger ahead, then there is, and we should take it as a compliment that they warned us, you Jon. So you told them of your nature?"
Jon nodded, "Well, the Graybeards helped me, so maybe this other eccentric order can offer a couple words. All I asked for. I don't think that form of communication is easy. Power of a god, that is."
J'zargo said, "So what do we do now?"
Tolfdir said, "I'm going to stay here, and keep my eye on this. You all go back to the college and take word of this to the Arch-Mage immediately. This is a wondrous find, and the only way to keep our path is to get this there to study it, find out what the danger is."
Jon thought that could be exactly what triggers the danger, but the Chain Of Events Is In Motion, And Can't Be Stopped. Only thing to do is trigger the trap. He said, "Perhaps we should leave somethings out. Like me tasting the difference in magika and a missing order. I'll also leave you this staff. I wanted to take it, but its paired with the Orb."
Tolfdir sagely nodded, "I'll keep those in a side pouch. They may lead to questions we don't want asked. You never know who can be trusted when things ahead are described as 'great dangers,' and questions about your exact nature that probably shouldn't be asked. I recommend you keep playing the Dragonborn for now, with whom you share that with at all."
Jon nodded, "Sage advice Master. I'll take the Party back to the college."
Tolfdir said, "One last thing. Thank you. All of you, Attendant as well. It's been a while since I had a proper Party with and around me, and this has turned into the capstone adventure of a lifetime for an old man like me. I have a feeling its only just starting as we figure this out, for you four at least. I also honestly don't think it could have turned out this way with the rest of the class here. You are all the cream of this crop, never doubt that for a second. Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"
"Hail Tolfdir's-Party!"