Chapter XIV: Rambling And 'Recruitment'
(Reyvin's POV)
As the now former Champion of Boethiah falls unconscious I make a show of wiping my gauntleted hands, lazily pulling Blasphemy out of the legendary armor without making a sound and depositing it back into my soul space "Someone take him to a tent and let him rest, do not touch the armor if you can help it."
The veteran who was standing at the ready beside Oren immediately got to work dragging Terryn's limp body to a nearby tent, the sound of armor being dragged across the soft ground failing to disturb the sudden stillness that had befallen the entire camp.
Unperturbed by this I simply unsummoned my crown and took a seat by the crackling fire, I grabbed a stick covered with sizzling bits of meat and took a bite, intentionally letting out a far too sensual moan and nodding to myself.
Scorch appeared on my shoulder and I tossed him a bit. He gulped it down in one movement and nodded as well "This is some good shit."
This finally seemed to break the awkwardness as the troops slowly relaxed and went about their day, while the officers allowed themselves to slowly sit back by the fire.
They were silent for a while longer but after a while Tiberius was unable to take it anymore and asked in a slightly disturbed tone tinged with awe "I am sorry... but what in all the gods' names just happened?!"
The rest seemed just as curious, if a bit more wisely reluctant to ask me. Smiling eerily I shrugged my shoulders and waved it off like it was not a big deal "Boethiah tried serenading me, I refused."
I barely held myself back from laughing aloud when my words finally clicked. Oren looked scared shitless, the Paladin nodded in approval, Thorfinn looked at me like I was an idiot, Garm laughed his ass off, Zarok looked just about ready to piss himself and Tiberius definitely regretted ever asking me anything."
"But that is enough about my demonic escapades." I cut into their mental breakdowns with a clap of my hands "What have you lot been up to recently?"
---
We spent a good two hours catching up after that, we were in no hurry since unless Tullius sent out orders we would not be doing anything for as long as two full days.
Tiberius was the first to answer, almost gleefully describing the increasing responsibilities delegated to him by Imperial Command due to his immense flexibility on the field and his ability to save up on manpower due to simply being able to resummon his servants should they fall in battle.
Exactly the reason Tullius called him Battlemage back in the main camp, his promotion was as inevitable as the big head he inevitably got from it. Naturally, all it took for him to suddenly appear as humble as a priest was for me to idly ask him about his combat magic training.
Even after all his experiences he somehow still managed to slack off...
'You know, the biggest irony is that idiots like this are the ones to usually survive.' Scorch points out unhelpfully.
Zarok was far less willing to engage in any 'non-professional' conversation with me. Not that he did it out of any disrespect, dude was simply too scared to speak with any real confidence. His men seemingly shared his thoughts as a good chunk of them were former Sprawl residents.
At least I would not have to worry about them disobeying orders.
Garm did not have much to say, the man simply offered me a bottle of mead and a cheer before waddling off to his own people to ensure no one did a funny because of my earlier words.
Thorfinn on the other hand had changed a fair bit. He was still as short as I remembered, poor man was seemingly cursed to remain a pocket prince forevermore but that did not stop him from advancing in other areas.
He had apparently befriended Jarl Assur and the two spent a good chunk of time either sparring together or just being two rambunctious youths when the people weren't looking. The bout of teasing he sentenced himself to when he revealed the fact that the two seduced a pair of twin daughters of the local miller one drunken night almost made his face burn off in embarrassment.
I stopped only when he mentioned something I valued even above annoying people, namely magic. His magical focus turned fully toward alteration, much like the Captain of his hold's guard, and his attainments in casting enhancement spells placed him squarely at the expert level.
He even had a formal declaration from Tolfdir for his ability which earned him even more respect from the hold and had him firmly entrenched in the city's ruling nobility, even at his young age.
But none of their achievements came even close to my own tales so they kept pestering me to tell them about the mad shit I've been doing in recent months. I did fold after a while and proceeded to share a carefully edited tale.
Just as I finished retelling the dragon slaying and the reveal of the Dragonborn to the captive audience, the soldier that dragged Terryn away came up to me and after saluting spoke "The..." He hesitated briefly "Guest is awake, my lord."
I gave the crowd an apologetic look and got up "We will have to continue this later. Enjoy yourselves today because when the sun rises tomorrow I want full discipline back in this camp. Dismissed!"
There was some grumbling at first but as I continued staring at them, mostly the Nords, they all got the message and dispersed, doing their best to enjoy what was likely to be the last night of relaxation in a while.
The scene I arrived upon when I reached the tent made me smirk involuntarily at just how wary my people truly were of Boethiah. The whole thing was surrounded by a dozen marksmen with fully loaded repeating crossbows and another dozen halberdiers, all of them staring at it with rapt attention and only relaxing when I arrived.
The Paladin, Anondor was his name, opened the tent flap for me as I approached "I have healed the wound, my lord but the prisoner remains weak even after our strongest potions."
"I will deal with that." I raise a hand to forestall any further words "Leave me."
They hesitate for a moment but soon follow the order and I step inside, my eyebrow immediately raising of its own volition as I observed the immensely tired looking Dunmer.
Well, he did bring it upon himself and killed who knows how many people, so it wasn't like I cared about his suffering if I was being totally honest with myself "I trust your accommodations are acceptable?" I ask with false cheer.
"Why am I alive?" Terryn rasps out.
"Did you not hear me earlier?" I tilt my head, a wicked grin spreading on my face as he glared at me "You may have refused me at first but I denied you your refusal and here we are."
He half scoffs half chuckles "Is my ability to smith ebony so valued that a Great Lord such as yourself would forego his honor to recruit me?"
"Don't flatter yourself." I snort, earning another glare "You are a mass murderer at the very least, and considering your age I do not even wish to imagine the depravities you committed during your lifetime."
I pause briefly, allowing my words to sink "No." I shake my head "The sole reason you are alive, the sole reason I will grant you your wish to find peace" I lean threateningly close to him, my eyes burning so brightly they probably burned his retina slightly "The only reason your pathetic soul is not currently languishing inside a soul gem."
My threatening glare suddenly turns to a happy grin as I point a thumb toward myself "Is to spite Boethiah, who thought she could play her petty games with me."
He turns completely silent as I finish my little rant, staring at me in a whole new light. Finally he allows himself a mirthless chuckle "So I will get what I wish, simply because you are one petty child raging against the gods."
'Is this fucker still trying to provoke us to kill him?' Scorch asks, genuinely baffled 'Did he smoke some of that good cat sugar before he came to commit suicide by us?'
Instead of lashing out like he no doubt expected a supremely powerful youngster to do, I simply grin and nod "You are completely right."
His hopeful look turns sour and then baffled before he allows himself to fall back onto his pillow and starts laughing his ass off, for an entire minute.
Finally, he stops and looks up with a grin of his own "I think I can live with that."
"Uh huh." I nod patronizingly and clap my hands "As if I'd ever not ensure your loyalty in some way."
Before he can even understand my meaning the room is suddenly filled with yet another 'person' as Mephala materializes herself in her little puppet. The Daedra looked even more giddy than usual and I could pretty much guess what happened in Oblivion.
She immediately envelops me in a cheerful hug from behind "Reyvin!" The cheer in her voice is so infectious even Terryn fails to keep hold of his reaction "You really need to visit the Spiral Skein at some point, all these delightful things you are doing are making~ me~ go~ wild~"
I completely fail to so much as twitch as her breathy words reach my ears, staring into the distance with a defeated deadpan. "Right." I forcibly stop myself from facepalming and focus back on Terryn "So here is the deal, you psychopathic fuckhead."
His earlier glare returns with a vengeance.
"Either I stab you and ram your excuse for a soul into a neat little gem, which I will then use to enchant my personal toilet." Even a person of his caliber pales at the insinuation "Or..." I turn and point to the still horny spider lady "You accept my rules. Namely, you shall not commit violence of any kind save for self defense or the command of me or my intermediaries" I begin listing and his face somehow turns even more sour "Nor shall you commit any other crime, in the spirit of the laws I present my people with."
I snap my fingers "Mephala, do your thing."
The moment Terryn hears me his glare turns to an expression of pure fear "You are fucking insane kid!"
But he goes completely ignored as Mephala... moans "I love it when you are so commanding~" Before staring straight into the bedridden Dunmer's eyes and offering him the deal.
The staredown lasts for a good five minutes as I practically feel the idiot genuinely debate between the pros and cons of being my designated chamber pot and accepting the actual spirit of his 'wish'.
But his decision was as inevitable as his earlier defeat, as he released a sigh of despair and nodded slowly.
"Capital." I clap my hands "Now let us see that info you had."
As the grumbling new member of House Dagoth brings out the heavily cursed scroll I hear Mephala mutter into my ear "Do be sure to visit, dear." Before disappearing.
-----
I awoke early the next day with an annoyed frown on my face. I rarely dreamed much, and when I did it was the usual insanity one might expect of someone as overimaginative as I, but this time it was different. I remembered nothing of what I dreamed but I knew it to be something which made me uneasy and uncomfortable.
The possibility of Vaermina fucking with me already was there but I doubted she noticed me so quickly... or was I underestimating the Daedric rumor mill and paying for it already? My confusion only grew when I woke up the next morning, perfectly fine.
I wanted to ponder the situation further but a mere ten minutes after I awoke, a messenger arrived from the Imperial encampment, carrying Tullius' marching orders now that he had had the time to acquaint himself with the changes in enemy numbers.
How Ulfric managed to double his forces so quickly I was not sure honestly but he was gambling a lot for a single victory and I would be more than happy to show him the error of his ways.
Ten minutes later we were, all one thousand and one hundred of us men and elves, marching out through the slight fog which had descended upon the future battlefield, the slight rumble of the earth the only real noise that followed our march.
As we approached our designated position I opened my eyes and waited... and waited... and wa- in the distance, the sound of military ballistae letting loose cracked through the air as multiple explosions hit the eastern river bank.
Without a word, I summoned my glaive and pointed it forward.
The battle for Dawnstar had begun.
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To battle my pretties!
Conquer stones in my name!
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