Princes and Kings
- Location
- A pit
Once more your patron has tasked you with something you had not anticipated, Kasur. You had heard him mention the existence of these remade snow elves some few times, even had you aid them in minor tasks, but now he would have you take part in the reveal of their return to the world at large. It's a daunting task, made no less so by having you work with the dunmer King Felsimar Redoran to do so. As a general you had nothing but respect for him in that brief time you aided in the Argonian war, but as a leader that cunning and creativity that led him to victory becomes far more worrying.
He had known about the snow elves for some time it seems, as evidenced by the temples towards jyggalag within morrowind and the handful of berobed Falmer in his court. Apparently he'd even drafted a few sets of laws and declarations in anticipation of their acknowledgement. When looking through these, however, you noticed oh so many problems. Problems you will pretend aren't purposeful for the sake of your relations with the king.
In exchange for recognition and support in their reintroduction to modern Tamrielic society the king intended to place many exploitive and colonial restrictions upon them. Mining rights given to Redoran Businesses, tariffs on Falmer goods into dunmer markets, and the creation and control of a trading settlement along the banks of the ghost sea to the north, effectively putting the Falmer into an exploitive customs union. When you bring these mistakes to Felsimars attention, you make sure to emphasize that such an exploitive series of laws would do a great deal to ruin any relations he and his court may have with their allies.
Intimidation isn't something you're comfortable with, but thankfully it manages to work. With your oversight and even a few laws penned by yourself you create a much more mutually beneficial arrangement for the two nations. All that matters now is the official announcement. The king intends to announce the reveal of the Falmer at the end of the month once a delegation of Falmer has arrived to add weight to it all, their prince included.
You aren't exactly an official advisor or member of Felsimars inner circle, but he intends to bring you along, if only as security in case something goes wrong, though you've peered into your swords edge enough times to know nothing should go wrong. Still you find yourself patrolling the nearby areas, any high vantage points where an archer or crossbowman might find themselves or alleyways along the way where an assassin might hide, up until the day of the announcement.
Its a misty day, just after sunrise outside the Blacklight palace. The plaza is packed full of elves, dark and cloaked snow, while the king stands on a platform outside the drawbridge to his castle, guards keeping a corridor for him to flee through should the worst occur. Criers made sure the denizens of the capital would know of the coming announcement, and Felsimar ensured people would arrive thanks to the royal baker, providing food and drink to all his people to appear ever magnanimous. The Falmer are dressed in their nettle cloaks, waiting for the king to announce them before revealing themselves. Many of them appear anxious, shifting from one foot to another and looking about, while others seem excited, chatting away with their fellows.
Their leader, Caerlen, stands with felsimar on the platform. He's dressed just as the others, the only way you're able to tell he's their prince being the guards following him closely behind. You yourself stand near the back of Felsimars guards, eager to do something, anything. You know you aren't needed for the rest of this, but you still wish to do more. You suppose, however, it now rests in the hands of kings and Princes.
---
Gods above, was the sun always this bright? You feel like it would reblind you given the chance. And the city itself, so crowded, unlike anything you'd experienced below ground before, though the population has been steadily increasing as more distant Falmer tribes immigrate to more central locations its still nowhere near this crowded. Perhaps you should see towards further expansions and repairs to fallen dwemer housing in those cities?
No. Stop thinking about that for one minute. Do not distract yourself with these thoughts, Caerlen. You are here to announce the Falmer's return and as much as you want to you cannot distract yourself from what you will do here today. It should be a momentous occasion, one to be celebrated for centuries to come, so give your all to it and ignore the nerves. Felsimar stands next to you, a friendly smile on his face, a mask as you've come to know from your interactions with him even by letter.
"So, what do you think?" he says, stroking a red beard streaked with gray. You wish you had an answer but honestly you hadn't been paying the slightest attention. "I apologize, what do I think of what exactly?" The king is hardly phased, thankfully, by your ignorance and jumps right back to what he had been saying. "Of a joint effort to explore dwemer ruins and reverse engineer their machines. We need every edge we can get, and I'd heard you'd been making steady progress already, so why not merge our efforts and both enjoy the fruits?"
He thinks the dwemer ruins and machines but toys to collect and use it seems. He doesn't understand the care and regulations you put upon your people work in understanding the tools of your tormentors. Why would he know, however? The dunmer long coexisted with the dwemer before their disappearance and so weren't exposed to as many of the horrors. While you don't like the idea of others having those old tools of terror, you'd at least entertain the proposal to help maintain good relations. "I will...consider it. But I believe your time has come." you say, pointing him towards the throng of people waiting for his proclamation.
"Hmm. We will return to this, but lets put on smiles my friend, the people must see this as nothing but a boon lest they become wary of your people." With that he signals his trumpeters and marches forward raising a hand to quiet his people before him. "Good citizens of Morrowind! I greet you today with pride and excitement. I come to announce not only unto you but to all the people of Nirn of the return of one of the continents eldest people, taken from us too soon but now returned to us by the grace of the Gods.
Know that these people shall ever be friends of we dunmer people, as they came and provided their aid following the argonians dreadful invasion when they were still weak themselves, for their aid in helping us rebuild our homes and sheltering our unfortunate citizens in their chapels. Perhaps many of you already know of whom I speak, perhaps they have become friends and trusted souls to you all as they've become to me. These people are the Falmer.
Some among you may only know them from their twisted forms, the goblinlike creatures they refer to as the betrayed, but they have been rebuilt, remolded by the hand of Jyggalag as Azura once molded us. They've been returned to their prime forms, but more importantly their right minds. Now, they just wish to be brought back into society. I will do what I can to aid them, but don't think I would spurn the Dunmer for them. Our two peoples shall instead work alongside each other, hand in hand, so that all may prosper."
Your people among the crowd have begun doffing their cowls, revealing themselves in full, and you step up besides Felsimar and do the same. While you haven't brought out the spear of your position, it isn't too hard for them to figure your someone important thanks to the crown on your head. You hate this part, the public addresses that could be handled by a simple crier, but your council agreed that you should be publicly seen and speak as a representative of your people.
"I, Snow Prince Caerlen Acharya of the Falmer people, give my thanks to you dunmer who have served as charitable hosts and friends to my people. Without you and your kindness i doubt the Falmer would have had a chance to reenter the world in my lifetime. I can only hope that this friendship between our peoples will last long enough for us to make it up to you all."
After that is what feels like an hours worth of talking, both on the platform for all to see and amongst small groups of dunmer nobles and merchants all vying to see what they can gain from your people with few caring to think of what they would give in return, you retreat into the blacklight castle, followed by jyggalags champions. You ask him to arrange a ship to sail for the mountains of home, laden with gifts and wealth from the lands of Morrowind.
Felsimar finds you before you can abscond however and talks your ear off about the joint research initiative with almost a manic obsession lasting for hours. When the champion returns you politely excuse yourself, stating a need to get started on the Falmers new policies for their reintroduction, and nearly flee from Felsimars insatiable questioning.
The trip home is thankfully short, the captain skipping major city's to hopefully out pace the news of your return. Once you return to the mountains, to Nchandfel, however, your return to your capital is delayed further by an unexpected invitation. You suppose sea travel is nothing compared to magical communications. What you find in Nchandfel, huddled around a fire in the still single though expanded tavern within the fledgling city, is a delegation of orcs bundled in heavy furs. You forget how the other races can't stand the colds your people can comfortably live in sometimes.
Among these orcs is one of their princes, Urim Gro-Nagorm, as a representative of his father Gortwog Gro-Nagorm the orcish king. You had anticipated they might come to meet the ones who claim the mountains neighbor to their own Wrothgar mountains, but you thought you would have more time. You thought there might be threats, demands, or even declarations of rivalry or war, but what they want surprises you more than anything else.
The orcish prince pulls out a parchment, not even a scroll or proper letter with the haste the king had written it, and speaks his fathers word. "I, on the behalf of King Gortwog Gro-Nagorm, Warlord and Chieftan of the orcs, Lord of orsinium and the subterranean realms, invite you to Nova Orsinium so that we may forge a bond of friendship. The orcs have experienced similar hardships as you now face in gaining recognition, and would see that no other suffer as we had."
With his fathers words said he hands you the paper and you verify what he said. While you wish to rest you know this isn't an opportunity to waste. You send one of your advisors with the paper to your council so they will be made aware of what you're doing, asking that the orcish delegation wait just an hour so you may resupply for the journey west. Your time politicking is not yet over.
Slowly word of the snow elves return shall spread across nirn, both of their return as well as their new found alliances with the orcs and dunmer.
---
With your promise to the Falmer people fulfilled you have unlocked another trait
[] Crystaline sorcery: the cult of the college of winterhold has, in their worship of you, found ways to channel your essence into magical effects. Supposedly, any who worship you would have access to this crystalline magic, though mastery of it will still take time, practice, and faith. All followers will be stronger.
[] Divine Diplomancy: you've gained much experience in talking with other gods , spirits, and other non mortal beings since your return. Sheogorath says its simply them being in shock that jyggalag of all gods has become a diplomat in his old age. Other gods, lords, and spirits you interact with have a better impression of you barring other circumstances and all diplomacy rolls will have a +10
[] Patron of heroes: Your champions have been invaluable for your plans since your return, acting on mundus and making a name for themselves and for you. Not only has this begun attracting prospective adventurers to worship you but your champions have grown stronger as well thanks to your influence.
[] Write in: the feat must in some way be related to previous actions by Jyggalag
---
Well you hadn't expected to be here, in dingy, smokey bar, did you Nael. It's not like you wanted to be here, there's plenty better places to drink with or without company, but you are chasing the barest of leads right now to get to some thalmor scumbags.
Youve looked high and low and found nothing. You started working over the other thugs of the underworld for answers and got nothing. You even went to those politician pricks Kasurs chummy with and got nothing. Now you are stuck waiting on the son of a thalmor to show up wanting a taste of the rough side of town. The father's gone but the son stayed behind and you can only hope he's not enough of a fool that his father told him nothing.
Youve been here two hours now, hoping to blend into the background, and are likely to stab the next tough guy calling you "spiderbite" or a skooma junkie. At least its better then the wannabe Casanovas trying to take you to their place. You can't even drink away the annoyance since what the bartender packs is little better than pooled sewer water.
Your about ready to call it quits when the son, barely more than a kid, steps in. He dressed down to try and not stand out but the soft face and confidence sold him out as a yuppie the moment he walked through the door. He goes straight to the bartender, standing right next to and giving you little more than a sideways glance, and asks if there's somewhere more private for him to drink. The guys making it easy for you, and you'll take that ease after the past few months.
He goes into the back with a bottle of wine and tells the bartender to expect some of his friends soon, meaning you only had so much time to do this cleanly. A few of the other patrons to the bar seem to have the same idea as you however, rising to follow the boy after a few minutes, lured by the scent of an easy mark. You grab the nearest and shove him back into his seat and shoot a glare at the rest, making sure they all get good looks at the sword and daggers at your hip. A stray spark of intellect hits them and they make the decisions to sit down.
Through the curtain separating this hall from the rest of the bar, a left turn and then straight ahead, the doors cracked open and the boy with his back to you, drinking deep of the bottle already. You don't give him the chance to finish it, running in and slamming him face first into the wall. You hear a satisfying crunch and spin him around to face you before slamming him back to the wall, your hand around his throat. He tries to cough up the wine but you let him drown in it for just a moment, let him really feel helpless before giving him a chance to cough it out.
"Hello little Thomair. I'll make things easy for you. Tell me where your father is and I'll let you live, unharmed, aside from what's been already done of course. Don't and-" "I don't know! Him and his buddies in the dominion said they were going on a vacation, needed to hide out while some plans were put in motion! He said he couldn't take me because I wasn't initiated yet, and wouldn't tell me anything, I swear!"
Seriously? Immediately? Gods this boy was ready to say everything he knew and you didn't even get to the threats. Not that he knew anything, boy was too scared to lie, the pulse at his throat not going any faster when he spoke. "Fine, do you know when he returns? Or did he deem you unworthy of that information as well?" He squirms slightly in your grasp, and seems ashamed at your words.
"I...no, no real ideas at least. He said he might be a few months or even a year as he might go to my uncles and aunts in the imperial court or the ones among the admiralty. I really can't tell you anything else." you let out a groan and drop the brat. "Damnit.... Okay kid, you get to live. Hells, I'll give you some advise. Separate yourself from your father and all his political friends. You'll live longer and won't need to see me again."
You back out of the room, keeping your eyes on the boy so he doesn't try anything, then slip out of the bar. Another day wasted, scant scraps pf info gained. Apparently the thalmor were actively hiding, keeping their heads low while something was happening, and you had a good guess as to what. The assassination of potentate Ocato.
---
You had planned to once more set out on a jaunt through oblivion, to see what might be found, but the reintroduction of the Falmer and the amount of prayers and requests beseeched of you has proven somewhat overwhelming in the short term. You had resigned yourself to putting off this exploration for another time but you are given another, very enthusiastic, option. The pawns, having heard of your decision to postpone the exploration, have asked to be allowed to do so in your place.
You doubt in their ability to do so. Many have had limited exposure to the inbetween of Daedric realms, wouldn't know what to look for and wouldn't be equipped should they encounter something hazardous. However, they seem set on it despite the dangers you make them aware of, and so you relent.
You have them select a small group of 8 of their people and let them equip themselves as they see fit, giving only marginal advise so they might learn more from this endeavor. They gather everything together into large packs, borrow horses from the rooks, and set off into the vast unknowable planes.
By mortal standards its roughly three months before they return. Ragged and weary but thankfully none perished, though some have cracked their horns. Their supplies have apparently been depleted for a month, their weapons chipped and cracked, and one of them is draped in some beasts fur having lost most of what clothing they had to preserve their dignity.
According to them, while out exploring they found themselves within a forest of trees that clawed open the sky and beasts that were ever in conflict with one another. They think this some great discovery on their part, and that cloak is apparently from some bipedal ursine creature, and you almost hate to ruin their excitement. But you will not lie to them.
All they found was the hunting grounds of hircine. If they knew what to look for they would've realized far sooner, but you tell them that this will serve as a learning experience, and allow the werebear-cloaked pawn some commendation and to keep his new mantle. Thankfully the scent of animal pelt and blood doesn't creep into your realm, meaning they've avoided hircine eye, though they still failed in actually discovering anything of note.
---
Vampirism is one of the oldest of diseases and one of the few not under the control of Peryite. Therefore, many cures have actually been found. The oldest one is perhaps the most simple. To shunt the curse off onto another soul. Mortals originally did this with black soul gems containing another mortals soul, and this practice continued in many folk traditions to a less effective, more symbolic, extent making effigies that were supposed to attract curses and disease and misfortune and everything else the mortals fear.
The knowledge of the original act has been lost and regained multiple times as some relearn old ways and others squash out perceived necromantic magicks. There's also the method used more in lycanthropy, finding the original progenitor of the curse, witches in the service of hircine, and ritually sacrificing their heads to whatever gods of healing you believed in or in places with strong connections to spirits, though this method was more hazardous. Theoretically it could be done by finding the daughter of Coldharbor who originally spread their strain of the curse, but something tells you that's an overly complicated method at this time.
There's also simply replacing the curse. One could force themselves to take on the curse of lycanthropy, stripping themselves of Molag Bals corruption for Hircines, or vice versa. You also found a few tales suggesting a vampire ridding himself of Bals touch by undergoing the process of turning themselves into a lich, though that's less removing it from oneself than it is changing undeaths form.
You could simply research send your people off to find the secrets of this curse transference, there is a simpler and perhaps more useful alternative. The creation of a curse of your own. Though, technically, your early design for it has more in line with a possession, planting a soul from the tree within them, one tied to you already so that it could not be overwhelmed by lycanthropy or vampirism.
In some few tests you made this could allow one with the soul imbued in them to become something akin to a knight, though more magickly gifted than physically, allowing them a very minor array of abilities similar to your own with crystal as well as granting them increased reservoirs of magicka. The downside of this being that they need to allow this secondary soul to control them and change their body to a suitable form to channel the magick. As with the others it's something they should have control over with time and practice.
Your design isn't perfect, unfortunately. Such a large concentration of magicka means the cursed one would be far weaker to lightning and electricity as it strips away the magick and sublimates the crystal. They would also attract this lightning like a storm rod, the sheer density of magick acting as something akin to a magnet for other magicks. The soul would also be free willed, though attuned to yourself, which seems a burden for anyone, as evidenced by Sheogorath who already deals with a multitude. Its ultimately up to you which option you would go with.
[] Unleash a crystaline curse, name still pending, upon Vrythur, replacing his vampirism.
[] send a party of falmer or a champion to uncover the method of transfering the curse to a soul gem
---
The security of the white tower has proven formidable. Locks both magick and mundane of exquisite craftsmanship. Guards patrolling every inch of the towers interior and exterior. Magical traps for anyone no wary enough to stop them. But you and Vec have avoided them all, and now are on the doorstep to the emperors personal chambers, where the prelate sleeps unawares. She works on the lock, slowly and expertly moving the picks, getting you closer and closer to your goal.
With just the slightest click, she has it. She turns to you and nods, readying her dagger and slowly pushing the door open. Crack, a sound like the world breaking in half and a flash of light from behind the door. A bolt of lightning streaks through Vecs face and out the back, almost too fast to see, and she collapses backwards, dead before she knew it as the flash cooked cerebral fluid in her skull boils and turns to steam.
You are already moving, falling back to hide behind a statue in the hall to see if this mage leaves the chamber. Either its the prelate himself or some battlemage, a formidable foe that you would need the drop on. You still have a job, tasked to you by the dark mother herself, and you would not disappoint willingly.
Who steps out instead however is neither prelate nor battlemage. A nibenese man by the tattoos on his face, ritual markings of the old magics, with dark hair, a carved spear, and an exited look to him. He scans the area around while you sink further into the shadows, evading his eyes, and gives up the manual search. Unfortunately, he raises a hand and snaps his fingers.
Spectral hounds burst into existence in smokey clouds. Not just simple familiars but barghests, ghostly hounds willing to serve any master. He grabs Vecs corpse by the hair and pulls her up towards the hounds and commands them to take in her scent. Then, as one they turn to where you lurk in the shadows.
You rush out to the other side of the hall, hoping to put the curve of the tower in between yourself and any other bolts he might throw, as the hounds take to the chase, howling a dreadful call and baying for the blood of the living. The Nibenese witch laughs but stays in place, leaving you with just the barghests to deal with.
The mission is a failure right now, and an evacuation is in order so that you may make another attempt later. You head for your planned escape route, an old abandoned service tunnel that formerly was used via levitation spells to quickly go between floors, but a potion of feather would have to do. Its two more doors down. You just need to outpace the mutts a little longer. They bark and howl at your heels, ready to rip you apart like any other prey, but you were an assassin of the dark brotherhood, you would not die unless it was your mothers wish.
Your legs start to feel a deep chill, the effect of the hounds near bites on you draining some of your life, but this chase is almost over. You reach the door, thankfully ajar, and run in, thinking for a moment that you were home free. Instead, you find yourself running straight into a wall of shields and spears, who are far more ready for you than you are for them. Its only now that you realize that your attempt to murder the prelate was turned into an ambush.
You try to jump over them, your momentum too much to stop now, but they catch you in the air. You feel the horrible pain as three spear heads penetrate through the leathers of your armor, one sinking into your hip, another into your shoulder, and the third through your stomach and out the back. The pain is unimaginable, but worse is the fear. You failed your mother. Vec was lucky that she was dead before she knew it.
You fall to the ground in front of the centurions, blood already pooling below you, but your death is not a quick one. The barghests descend on you as hungry fiends, ripping you apart as you scream in pain, devouring you piece by piece. You barely hear the sound of deep laughter as the nibenese witch is followed inside by the very target you are now powerless to kill.
"As I've told you Ocato, so long as I'm here I can protect you and this empire of yours." The elf looks down at you, though the life from your body has parted, to be given unto Sithis for your failure. "My thanks Thules. Now, let us return to my chambers, I believe there is much we must discuss."
---
You may now select a new goal.
[] reclaim the domain of natural order: Peryite has for too long held captive you old domain. Take it back by any means necessary.
[] Become a tolerated faith within the empire: barring some provincial exceptions worship of the nine is the only truly accepted religion in the empire. However, some exceptions have been made. See if one can be made for you.
[] Destroy the dark brotherhood: the assassins are a blight on mundus, and Sithis a blight on everything thats ever existed. Weaken him by destroying his cult.
[] write in
---
With the pact with Sheo you can have him do an action for you, still rolling for it of course, or give +25 to a roll
Sotha Sil may aid in any acts of creation, whether of artifacts, lifeforms, or anything else I deem appropriate. He will give advantage to these actions, letting you roll twice.
What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one
[] A new champion: with the artifacts at your disposal it may be a good idea to seek another champion. Seek out those you had once found as well as new blood who may be worthy of your boons. Dc 75
-[] What artifact will you grant them?
[] Midden exploration: Below Winterhold Is a dungeon formed from built over buildings and caverns of ice. Much has been left and forgotten down there, and your cultists are in the perfect position to go find them. DC: 60
-[] If there's something specific down there that Jyggalag knows about you want them to find, say which
[] The Atmora expedition: With the expedition funded by the king, there's no reason not to send your cultists to join them. DC: 75
[] the snow elves return: King Felsimar has made good use out of the Jyggylags faith in Morrowind so far, especially with your priests. Perhaps he might officially recognize and support the return of the Falmer on Nirn? DC 80
[] Wherever the wind blows: a common practice among Daedric princes with their artifacts is to toss them upon Nirn and see where they end up, letting a champion be naturally attracted to it. That or to cause chaos depending on the inclinations of the Daedra in question. You might do the same. No dc but there will be a roll to see what happens with the artifact
[] The gifts of man: many artifacts already litter the lands of Skyrim, one needs only look. Of course, looking doesn't mean you would have the artifact for yourself, you would still need to send someone to collect it, but if you could find something you could imbue with your will, spreading your influence would be all the easier. DC65
-the higher the roll the better the item you find.
[] write in. up to qm discretion
---
What shall your champions do? Choose which champion shall do what, both can be assigned to the same task for an extra +20 to the roll
[] Hunt down the brotherhood, phase one: while the brotherhood exists all over Tamriel, you want them gone from at least Skyrim. Send your champion to snuff out their presence. Dc60
[/] Hunt for an artifact: There's many artifacts on Nirn unclaimed by any gods. Were you to discover one, you could send the champion to collect it. Dc55
-Needs an artifact to hunt
[] Let them pursue their own goals: your champions have goals of his own. Let them pursue them and perhaps grow stronger from the effort. There is no dc, just a roll to see how things went for your champion.
[] Midden exploration: Below Winterhold Is a dungeon formed from built over buildings and caverns of ice. Much has been left and forgotten down there, and your champions are always in need of something to do. DC: 60
-[] If there's something specific down there that Jyggalag knows about you want them to find, say which
[] The Atmora expedition: With the expedition funded by the king, there's no reason not to send your champions to join them. DC: 75
[] weakening Thalmor: you know that the Thalmor intend to take over the summerset isles, and that would give them the power and authority to sow chaos across Nirn. Have your champions put a stop to that. DC 50
[] write in
---
What shall you do in oblivion?
[] Conquest. While your power is diminished, it would not be impossible to find some corner of oblivion held by a weaker Daedra for you to take for yourself. So long as you don't make too much noise, none would assume you were there. DC60
[] seek out subjects. Daedra are inherently creatures of chaos, but many value strength over ideals. Convince them of your strength, and they will follow. DC70
[] Seek out the other planes. Many are the planes of oblivion, and many are their occupants. You know enough of your kin to know where to avoid, so you could find allies or a realm ripe for the taking. DC70
-the higher the roll, the better plane you find
[] Find allies. Without the might you once had, you need allies so that you might not be blindsided. seek others out so you might make an alliance.
-[]who will you seek an alliance with? different Daedra will have different DC's, and you need to seek specific Daedra
[] diplomatic efforts: friends and allies can be difficult to keep, so better to maintain contact so that relations don't break down.
-[] who will you try to improve your relationship with.
---
What shall you do in Mytheria?
[] Creation. more artifacts are always useful. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc75
-[] what shall you make, and what shall it do? Up to qm if your idea would be allowed/ if it's too strong
[] Rebuild your library. Once your library rivaled that of Hermeus mora, you imagine it's the reason he played a part in your downfall. Now you would rebuild it. Gather what tomes you can find in oblivion, and begin the calculations of the future as you once had. Dc 60
[] Reforging: Your artifacts each have their uses, but some might benefit from a change or two. Take them to your side and remake them, not enough to undo what they are but to align them more to your needs.
[] Write in. up to qm discretion
He had known about the snow elves for some time it seems, as evidenced by the temples towards jyggalag within morrowind and the handful of berobed Falmer in his court. Apparently he'd even drafted a few sets of laws and declarations in anticipation of their acknowledgement. When looking through these, however, you noticed oh so many problems. Problems you will pretend aren't purposeful for the sake of your relations with the king.
In exchange for recognition and support in their reintroduction to modern Tamrielic society the king intended to place many exploitive and colonial restrictions upon them. Mining rights given to Redoran Businesses, tariffs on Falmer goods into dunmer markets, and the creation and control of a trading settlement along the banks of the ghost sea to the north, effectively putting the Falmer into an exploitive customs union. When you bring these mistakes to Felsimars attention, you make sure to emphasize that such an exploitive series of laws would do a great deal to ruin any relations he and his court may have with their allies.
Intimidation isn't something you're comfortable with, but thankfully it manages to work. With your oversight and even a few laws penned by yourself you create a much more mutually beneficial arrangement for the two nations. All that matters now is the official announcement. The king intends to announce the reveal of the Falmer at the end of the month once a delegation of Falmer has arrived to add weight to it all, their prince included.
You aren't exactly an official advisor or member of Felsimars inner circle, but he intends to bring you along, if only as security in case something goes wrong, though you've peered into your swords edge enough times to know nothing should go wrong. Still you find yourself patrolling the nearby areas, any high vantage points where an archer or crossbowman might find themselves or alleyways along the way where an assassin might hide, up until the day of the announcement.
Its a misty day, just after sunrise outside the Blacklight palace. The plaza is packed full of elves, dark and cloaked snow, while the king stands on a platform outside the drawbridge to his castle, guards keeping a corridor for him to flee through should the worst occur. Criers made sure the denizens of the capital would know of the coming announcement, and Felsimar ensured people would arrive thanks to the royal baker, providing food and drink to all his people to appear ever magnanimous. The Falmer are dressed in their nettle cloaks, waiting for the king to announce them before revealing themselves. Many of them appear anxious, shifting from one foot to another and looking about, while others seem excited, chatting away with their fellows.
Their leader, Caerlen, stands with felsimar on the platform. He's dressed just as the others, the only way you're able to tell he's their prince being the guards following him closely behind. You yourself stand near the back of Felsimars guards, eager to do something, anything. You know you aren't needed for the rest of this, but you still wish to do more. You suppose, however, it now rests in the hands of kings and Princes.
---
Gods above, was the sun always this bright? You feel like it would reblind you given the chance. And the city itself, so crowded, unlike anything you'd experienced below ground before, though the population has been steadily increasing as more distant Falmer tribes immigrate to more central locations its still nowhere near this crowded. Perhaps you should see towards further expansions and repairs to fallen dwemer housing in those cities?
No. Stop thinking about that for one minute. Do not distract yourself with these thoughts, Caerlen. You are here to announce the Falmer's return and as much as you want to you cannot distract yourself from what you will do here today. It should be a momentous occasion, one to be celebrated for centuries to come, so give your all to it and ignore the nerves. Felsimar stands next to you, a friendly smile on his face, a mask as you've come to know from your interactions with him even by letter.
"So, what do you think?" he says, stroking a red beard streaked with gray. You wish you had an answer but honestly you hadn't been paying the slightest attention. "I apologize, what do I think of what exactly?" The king is hardly phased, thankfully, by your ignorance and jumps right back to what he had been saying. "Of a joint effort to explore dwemer ruins and reverse engineer their machines. We need every edge we can get, and I'd heard you'd been making steady progress already, so why not merge our efforts and both enjoy the fruits?"
He thinks the dwemer ruins and machines but toys to collect and use it seems. He doesn't understand the care and regulations you put upon your people work in understanding the tools of your tormentors. Why would he know, however? The dunmer long coexisted with the dwemer before their disappearance and so weren't exposed to as many of the horrors. While you don't like the idea of others having those old tools of terror, you'd at least entertain the proposal to help maintain good relations. "I will...consider it. But I believe your time has come." you say, pointing him towards the throng of people waiting for his proclamation.
"Hmm. We will return to this, but lets put on smiles my friend, the people must see this as nothing but a boon lest they become wary of your people." With that he signals his trumpeters and marches forward raising a hand to quiet his people before him. "Good citizens of Morrowind! I greet you today with pride and excitement. I come to announce not only unto you but to all the people of Nirn of the return of one of the continents eldest people, taken from us too soon but now returned to us by the grace of the Gods.
Know that these people shall ever be friends of we dunmer people, as they came and provided their aid following the argonians dreadful invasion when they were still weak themselves, for their aid in helping us rebuild our homes and sheltering our unfortunate citizens in their chapels. Perhaps many of you already know of whom I speak, perhaps they have become friends and trusted souls to you all as they've become to me. These people are the Falmer.
Some among you may only know them from their twisted forms, the goblinlike creatures they refer to as the betrayed, but they have been rebuilt, remolded by the hand of Jyggalag as Azura once molded us. They've been returned to their prime forms, but more importantly their right minds. Now, they just wish to be brought back into society. I will do what I can to aid them, but don't think I would spurn the Dunmer for them. Our two peoples shall instead work alongside each other, hand in hand, so that all may prosper."
Your people among the crowd have begun doffing their cowls, revealing themselves in full, and you step up besides Felsimar and do the same. While you haven't brought out the spear of your position, it isn't too hard for them to figure your someone important thanks to the crown on your head. You hate this part, the public addresses that could be handled by a simple crier, but your council agreed that you should be publicly seen and speak as a representative of your people.
"I, Snow Prince Caerlen Acharya of the Falmer people, give my thanks to you dunmer who have served as charitable hosts and friends to my people. Without you and your kindness i doubt the Falmer would have had a chance to reenter the world in my lifetime. I can only hope that this friendship between our peoples will last long enough for us to make it up to you all."
After that is what feels like an hours worth of talking, both on the platform for all to see and amongst small groups of dunmer nobles and merchants all vying to see what they can gain from your people with few caring to think of what they would give in return, you retreat into the blacklight castle, followed by jyggalags champions. You ask him to arrange a ship to sail for the mountains of home, laden with gifts and wealth from the lands of Morrowind.
Felsimar finds you before you can abscond however and talks your ear off about the joint research initiative with almost a manic obsession lasting for hours. When the champion returns you politely excuse yourself, stating a need to get started on the Falmers new policies for their reintroduction, and nearly flee from Felsimars insatiable questioning.
The trip home is thankfully short, the captain skipping major city's to hopefully out pace the news of your return. Once you return to the mountains, to Nchandfel, however, your return to your capital is delayed further by an unexpected invitation. You suppose sea travel is nothing compared to magical communications. What you find in Nchandfel, huddled around a fire in the still single though expanded tavern within the fledgling city, is a delegation of orcs bundled in heavy furs. You forget how the other races can't stand the colds your people can comfortably live in sometimes.
Among these orcs is one of their princes, Urim Gro-Nagorm, as a representative of his father Gortwog Gro-Nagorm the orcish king. You had anticipated they might come to meet the ones who claim the mountains neighbor to their own Wrothgar mountains, but you thought you would have more time. You thought there might be threats, demands, or even declarations of rivalry or war, but what they want surprises you more than anything else.
The orcish prince pulls out a parchment, not even a scroll or proper letter with the haste the king had written it, and speaks his fathers word. "I, on the behalf of King Gortwog Gro-Nagorm, Warlord and Chieftan of the orcs, Lord of orsinium and the subterranean realms, invite you to Nova Orsinium so that we may forge a bond of friendship. The orcs have experienced similar hardships as you now face in gaining recognition, and would see that no other suffer as we had."
With his fathers words said he hands you the paper and you verify what he said. While you wish to rest you know this isn't an opportunity to waste. You send one of your advisors with the paper to your council so they will be made aware of what you're doing, asking that the orcish delegation wait just an hour so you may resupply for the journey west. Your time politicking is not yet over.
Slowly word of the snow elves return shall spread across nirn, both of their return as well as their new found alliances with the orcs and dunmer.
---
With your promise to the Falmer people fulfilled you have unlocked another trait
[] Crystaline sorcery: the cult of the college of winterhold has, in their worship of you, found ways to channel your essence into magical effects. Supposedly, any who worship you would have access to this crystalline magic, though mastery of it will still take time, practice, and faith. All followers will be stronger.
[] Divine Diplomancy: you've gained much experience in talking with other gods , spirits, and other non mortal beings since your return. Sheogorath says its simply them being in shock that jyggalag of all gods has become a diplomat in his old age. Other gods, lords, and spirits you interact with have a better impression of you barring other circumstances and all diplomacy rolls will have a +10
[] Patron of heroes: Your champions have been invaluable for your plans since your return, acting on mundus and making a name for themselves and for you. Not only has this begun attracting prospective adventurers to worship you but your champions have grown stronger as well thanks to your influence.
[] Write in: the feat must in some way be related to previous actions by Jyggalag
---
Well you hadn't expected to be here, in dingy, smokey bar, did you Nael. It's not like you wanted to be here, there's plenty better places to drink with or without company, but you are chasing the barest of leads right now to get to some thalmor scumbags.
Youve looked high and low and found nothing. You started working over the other thugs of the underworld for answers and got nothing. You even went to those politician pricks Kasurs chummy with and got nothing. Now you are stuck waiting on the son of a thalmor to show up wanting a taste of the rough side of town. The father's gone but the son stayed behind and you can only hope he's not enough of a fool that his father told him nothing.
Youve been here two hours now, hoping to blend into the background, and are likely to stab the next tough guy calling you "spiderbite" or a skooma junkie. At least its better then the wannabe Casanovas trying to take you to their place. You can't even drink away the annoyance since what the bartender packs is little better than pooled sewer water.
Your about ready to call it quits when the son, barely more than a kid, steps in. He dressed down to try and not stand out but the soft face and confidence sold him out as a yuppie the moment he walked through the door. He goes straight to the bartender, standing right next to and giving you little more than a sideways glance, and asks if there's somewhere more private for him to drink. The guys making it easy for you, and you'll take that ease after the past few months.
He goes into the back with a bottle of wine and tells the bartender to expect some of his friends soon, meaning you only had so much time to do this cleanly. A few of the other patrons to the bar seem to have the same idea as you however, rising to follow the boy after a few minutes, lured by the scent of an easy mark. You grab the nearest and shove him back into his seat and shoot a glare at the rest, making sure they all get good looks at the sword and daggers at your hip. A stray spark of intellect hits them and they make the decisions to sit down.
Through the curtain separating this hall from the rest of the bar, a left turn and then straight ahead, the doors cracked open and the boy with his back to you, drinking deep of the bottle already. You don't give him the chance to finish it, running in and slamming him face first into the wall. You hear a satisfying crunch and spin him around to face you before slamming him back to the wall, your hand around his throat. He tries to cough up the wine but you let him drown in it for just a moment, let him really feel helpless before giving him a chance to cough it out.
"Hello little Thomair. I'll make things easy for you. Tell me where your father is and I'll let you live, unharmed, aside from what's been already done of course. Don't and-" "I don't know! Him and his buddies in the dominion said they were going on a vacation, needed to hide out while some plans were put in motion! He said he couldn't take me because I wasn't initiated yet, and wouldn't tell me anything, I swear!"
Seriously? Immediately? Gods this boy was ready to say everything he knew and you didn't even get to the threats. Not that he knew anything, boy was too scared to lie, the pulse at his throat not going any faster when he spoke. "Fine, do you know when he returns? Or did he deem you unworthy of that information as well?" He squirms slightly in your grasp, and seems ashamed at your words.
"I...no, no real ideas at least. He said he might be a few months or even a year as he might go to my uncles and aunts in the imperial court or the ones among the admiralty. I really can't tell you anything else." you let out a groan and drop the brat. "Damnit.... Okay kid, you get to live. Hells, I'll give you some advise. Separate yourself from your father and all his political friends. You'll live longer and won't need to see me again."
You back out of the room, keeping your eyes on the boy so he doesn't try anything, then slip out of the bar. Another day wasted, scant scraps pf info gained. Apparently the thalmor were actively hiding, keeping their heads low while something was happening, and you had a good guess as to what. The assassination of potentate Ocato.
---
You had planned to once more set out on a jaunt through oblivion, to see what might be found, but the reintroduction of the Falmer and the amount of prayers and requests beseeched of you has proven somewhat overwhelming in the short term. You had resigned yourself to putting off this exploration for another time but you are given another, very enthusiastic, option. The pawns, having heard of your decision to postpone the exploration, have asked to be allowed to do so in your place.
You doubt in their ability to do so. Many have had limited exposure to the inbetween of Daedric realms, wouldn't know what to look for and wouldn't be equipped should they encounter something hazardous. However, they seem set on it despite the dangers you make them aware of, and so you relent.
You have them select a small group of 8 of their people and let them equip themselves as they see fit, giving only marginal advise so they might learn more from this endeavor. They gather everything together into large packs, borrow horses from the rooks, and set off into the vast unknowable planes.
By mortal standards its roughly three months before they return. Ragged and weary but thankfully none perished, though some have cracked their horns. Their supplies have apparently been depleted for a month, their weapons chipped and cracked, and one of them is draped in some beasts fur having lost most of what clothing they had to preserve their dignity.
According to them, while out exploring they found themselves within a forest of trees that clawed open the sky and beasts that were ever in conflict with one another. They think this some great discovery on their part, and that cloak is apparently from some bipedal ursine creature, and you almost hate to ruin their excitement. But you will not lie to them.
All they found was the hunting grounds of hircine. If they knew what to look for they would've realized far sooner, but you tell them that this will serve as a learning experience, and allow the werebear-cloaked pawn some commendation and to keep his new mantle. Thankfully the scent of animal pelt and blood doesn't creep into your realm, meaning they've avoided hircine eye, though they still failed in actually discovering anything of note.
---
Vampirism is one of the oldest of diseases and one of the few not under the control of Peryite. Therefore, many cures have actually been found. The oldest one is perhaps the most simple. To shunt the curse off onto another soul. Mortals originally did this with black soul gems containing another mortals soul, and this practice continued in many folk traditions to a less effective, more symbolic, extent making effigies that were supposed to attract curses and disease and misfortune and everything else the mortals fear.
The knowledge of the original act has been lost and regained multiple times as some relearn old ways and others squash out perceived necromantic magicks. There's also the method used more in lycanthropy, finding the original progenitor of the curse, witches in the service of hircine, and ritually sacrificing their heads to whatever gods of healing you believed in or in places with strong connections to spirits, though this method was more hazardous. Theoretically it could be done by finding the daughter of Coldharbor who originally spread their strain of the curse, but something tells you that's an overly complicated method at this time.
There's also simply replacing the curse. One could force themselves to take on the curse of lycanthropy, stripping themselves of Molag Bals corruption for Hircines, or vice versa. You also found a few tales suggesting a vampire ridding himself of Bals touch by undergoing the process of turning themselves into a lich, though that's less removing it from oneself than it is changing undeaths form.
You could simply research send your people off to find the secrets of this curse transference, there is a simpler and perhaps more useful alternative. The creation of a curse of your own. Though, technically, your early design for it has more in line with a possession, planting a soul from the tree within them, one tied to you already so that it could not be overwhelmed by lycanthropy or vampirism.
In some few tests you made this could allow one with the soul imbued in them to become something akin to a knight, though more magickly gifted than physically, allowing them a very minor array of abilities similar to your own with crystal as well as granting them increased reservoirs of magicka. The downside of this being that they need to allow this secondary soul to control them and change their body to a suitable form to channel the magick. As with the others it's something they should have control over with time and practice.
Your design isn't perfect, unfortunately. Such a large concentration of magicka means the cursed one would be far weaker to lightning and electricity as it strips away the magick and sublimates the crystal. They would also attract this lightning like a storm rod, the sheer density of magick acting as something akin to a magnet for other magicks. The soul would also be free willed, though attuned to yourself, which seems a burden for anyone, as evidenced by Sheogorath who already deals with a multitude. Its ultimately up to you which option you would go with.
[] Unleash a crystaline curse, name still pending, upon Vrythur, replacing his vampirism.
[] send a party of falmer or a champion to uncover the method of transfering the curse to a soul gem
---
The security of the white tower has proven formidable. Locks both magick and mundane of exquisite craftsmanship. Guards patrolling every inch of the towers interior and exterior. Magical traps for anyone no wary enough to stop them. But you and Vec have avoided them all, and now are on the doorstep to the emperors personal chambers, where the prelate sleeps unawares. She works on the lock, slowly and expertly moving the picks, getting you closer and closer to your goal.
With just the slightest click, she has it. She turns to you and nods, readying her dagger and slowly pushing the door open. Crack, a sound like the world breaking in half and a flash of light from behind the door. A bolt of lightning streaks through Vecs face and out the back, almost too fast to see, and she collapses backwards, dead before she knew it as the flash cooked cerebral fluid in her skull boils and turns to steam.
You are already moving, falling back to hide behind a statue in the hall to see if this mage leaves the chamber. Either its the prelate himself or some battlemage, a formidable foe that you would need the drop on. You still have a job, tasked to you by the dark mother herself, and you would not disappoint willingly.
Who steps out instead however is neither prelate nor battlemage. A nibenese man by the tattoos on his face, ritual markings of the old magics, with dark hair, a carved spear, and an exited look to him. He scans the area around while you sink further into the shadows, evading his eyes, and gives up the manual search. Unfortunately, he raises a hand and snaps his fingers.
Spectral hounds burst into existence in smokey clouds. Not just simple familiars but barghests, ghostly hounds willing to serve any master. He grabs Vecs corpse by the hair and pulls her up towards the hounds and commands them to take in her scent. Then, as one they turn to where you lurk in the shadows.
You rush out to the other side of the hall, hoping to put the curve of the tower in between yourself and any other bolts he might throw, as the hounds take to the chase, howling a dreadful call and baying for the blood of the living. The Nibenese witch laughs but stays in place, leaving you with just the barghests to deal with.
The mission is a failure right now, and an evacuation is in order so that you may make another attempt later. You head for your planned escape route, an old abandoned service tunnel that formerly was used via levitation spells to quickly go between floors, but a potion of feather would have to do. Its two more doors down. You just need to outpace the mutts a little longer. They bark and howl at your heels, ready to rip you apart like any other prey, but you were an assassin of the dark brotherhood, you would not die unless it was your mothers wish.
Your legs start to feel a deep chill, the effect of the hounds near bites on you draining some of your life, but this chase is almost over. You reach the door, thankfully ajar, and run in, thinking for a moment that you were home free. Instead, you find yourself running straight into a wall of shields and spears, who are far more ready for you than you are for them. Its only now that you realize that your attempt to murder the prelate was turned into an ambush.
You try to jump over them, your momentum too much to stop now, but they catch you in the air. You feel the horrible pain as three spear heads penetrate through the leathers of your armor, one sinking into your hip, another into your shoulder, and the third through your stomach and out the back. The pain is unimaginable, but worse is the fear. You failed your mother. Vec was lucky that she was dead before she knew it.
You fall to the ground in front of the centurions, blood already pooling below you, but your death is not a quick one. The barghests descend on you as hungry fiends, ripping you apart as you scream in pain, devouring you piece by piece. You barely hear the sound of deep laughter as the nibenese witch is followed inside by the very target you are now powerless to kill.
"As I've told you Ocato, so long as I'm here I can protect you and this empire of yours." The elf looks down at you, though the life from your body has parted, to be given unto Sithis for your failure. "My thanks Thules. Now, let us return to my chambers, I believe there is much we must discuss."
---
You may now select a new goal.
[] reclaim the domain of natural order: Peryite has for too long held captive you old domain. Take it back by any means necessary.
[] Become a tolerated faith within the empire: barring some provincial exceptions worship of the nine is the only truly accepted religion in the empire. However, some exceptions have been made. See if one can be made for you.
[] Destroy the dark brotherhood: the assassins are a blight on mundus, and Sithis a blight on everything thats ever existed. Weaken him by destroying his cult.
[] write in
---
With the pact with Sheo you can have him do an action for you, still rolling for it of course, or give +25 to a roll
Sotha Sil may aid in any acts of creation, whether of artifacts, lifeforms, or anything else I deem appropriate. He will give advantage to these actions, letting you roll twice.
What shall you do in Nirn? Choose one
[] A new champion: with the artifacts at your disposal it may be a good idea to seek another champion. Seek out those you had once found as well as new blood who may be worthy of your boons. Dc 75
-[] What artifact will you grant them?
[] Midden exploration: Below Winterhold Is a dungeon formed from built over buildings and caverns of ice. Much has been left and forgotten down there, and your cultists are in the perfect position to go find them. DC: 60
-[] If there's something specific down there that Jyggalag knows about you want them to find, say which
[] The Atmora expedition: With the expedition funded by the king, there's no reason not to send your cultists to join them. DC: 75
[] the snow elves return: King Felsimar has made good use out of the Jyggylags faith in Morrowind so far, especially with your priests. Perhaps he might officially recognize and support the return of the Falmer on Nirn? DC 80
[] Wherever the wind blows: a common practice among Daedric princes with their artifacts is to toss them upon Nirn and see where they end up, letting a champion be naturally attracted to it. That or to cause chaos depending on the inclinations of the Daedra in question. You might do the same. No dc but there will be a roll to see what happens with the artifact
[] The gifts of man: many artifacts already litter the lands of Skyrim, one needs only look. Of course, looking doesn't mean you would have the artifact for yourself, you would still need to send someone to collect it, but if you could find something you could imbue with your will, spreading your influence would be all the easier. DC65
-the higher the roll the better the item you find.
[] write in. up to qm discretion
---
What shall your champions do? Choose which champion shall do what, both can be assigned to the same task for an extra +20 to the roll
[] Hunt down the brotherhood, phase one: while the brotherhood exists all over Tamriel, you want them gone from at least Skyrim. Send your champion to snuff out their presence. Dc60
[/] Hunt for an artifact: There's many artifacts on Nirn unclaimed by any gods. Were you to discover one, you could send the champion to collect it. Dc55
-Needs an artifact to hunt
[] Let them pursue their own goals: your champions have goals of his own. Let them pursue them and perhaps grow stronger from the effort. There is no dc, just a roll to see how things went for your champion.
[] Midden exploration: Below Winterhold Is a dungeon formed from built over buildings and caverns of ice. Much has been left and forgotten down there, and your champions are always in need of something to do. DC: 60
-[] If there's something specific down there that Jyggalag knows about you want them to find, say which
[] The Atmora expedition: With the expedition funded by the king, there's no reason not to send your champions to join them. DC: 75
[] weakening Thalmor: you know that the Thalmor intend to take over the summerset isles, and that would give them the power and authority to sow chaos across Nirn. Have your champions put a stop to that. DC 50
[] write in
---
What shall you do in oblivion?
[] Conquest. While your power is diminished, it would not be impossible to find some corner of oblivion held by a weaker Daedra for you to take for yourself. So long as you don't make too much noise, none would assume you were there. DC60
[] seek out subjects. Daedra are inherently creatures of chaos, but many value strength over ideals. Convince them of your strength, and they will follow. DC70
[] Seek out the other planes. Many are the planes of oblivion, and many are their occupants. You know enough of your kin to know where to avoid, so you could find allies or a realm ripe for the taking. DC70
-the higher the roll, the better plane you find
[] Find allies. Without the might you once had, you need allies so that you might not be blindsided. seek others out so you might make an alliance.
-[]who will you seek an alliance with? different Daedra will have different DC's, and you need to seek specific Daedra
[] diplomatic efforts: friends and allies can be difficult to keep, so better to maintain contact so that relations don't break down.
-[] who will you try to improve your relationship with.
---
What shall you do in Mytheria?
[] Creation. more artifacts are always useful. You could use some of your remaining power to make something of crystal that you could send unto the planet. Dc75
-[] what shall you make, and what shall it do? Up to qm if your idea would be allowed/ if it's too strong
[] Rebuild your library. Once your library rivaled that of Hermeus mora, you imagine it's the reason he played a part in your downfall. Now you would rebuild it. Gather what tomes you can find in oblivion, and begin the calculations of the future as you once had. Dc 60
[] Reforging: Your artifacts each have their uses, but some might benefit from a change or two. Take them to your side and remake them, not enough to undo what they are but to align them more to your needs.
[] Write in. up to qm discretion
