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Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

A bitter old man gets tossed into the world of Tamriel, as a descendant of a religious madman no less, watch as he delves into the secrets of magic and explores the wonders of this danger-filled world, and with luck and a lot of magic juice possibly even beyond. This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic (or anything for that matter). English is not my native language but I think there shouldn't be too many mistakes. The story will focus on magic and exploration with most likely a bit of romance later on. The upload schedule won't be rigid, but expect five chapters a week. If you want to support me financially and get access to early chapters visit patreon.com/Rastislav156

Rastislav · Derivados de juegos
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Chapter LXII: The Witch of The Swamps

(General POV)

A raven haired and amber eyed woman hummed lightly as she used a mortar and pestle to slowly grind a clump of vibrant mountain flower petals into a fine paste, lazily tossing it into a bubbling cauldron and causing the whole thing to suddenly change color from a sickly green to a majestic and lively red in a near instant.

Satisfied with her perfect timing she smirked, moving her hand to a leather bound tome sitting next to a stock of immensely toxic ingredients, completely uncaring for anything even remotely resembling safety regulations she flipped the book into the air and grabbed it.

Still humming she sauntered over to a luxurious armchair, taking a slurp of the tea that awaited on a small table next to it, now at perfect temperature. She sighed in contentment and flipped the book open, her smile growing just a tad crooked at she started reading the content.

And then she heard someone banging on her door.

Her right eye began to twitch and she promptly decided to pretend she wasn't home... The banging refused to stop for a full five minutes. She let out a slow exhale, closed (read: slammed) her book shut, and got up, all her previous contentment gone in favor of simmering frustration.

Uncaring about scaring the visiting irritant she swung the doors open but the words threatening to erupt were stuck in her throat as she was met with a figure cloaked in a tattered black cloak, covering everything save for two glowing red eyes that now stared straight into her very soul.

That alone would terrify her but something else drew her attention, namely the fact that she could feel nothing from the figure, a mage of her caliber could sense something from even the least magically potent individuals but the figure in front of her simply did not appear in her senses.

She tensed, her fingers twitching with practiced micro-movements as a sickly green rune appeared between them "Who are you?" She asked and cursed herself as her voice broke ever so slightly.

The figure stared at her for a moment, making her tense even more, before it chuckled, a very familiar chuckle she had not heard for some time "Is that how you welcome your guests Morrigan?"

(Reyvin's POV)

I had to hold back a snicker as her eyes widened, before her fear was completely replaced with a frustrated glare "Still playing childish pranks, Reyvin?" She hissed but her voice held no heat.

"I will have you know my pranks are most mature." I tutted lightly before looking to my sides and noticing some of the residents of Morthal beginning to stare, I turned back to my old friend with a grin she could not see "What, not going to invite me in?"

She glares at me for a while longer but then sighs and waves for me to follow "Get in and stop causing a scene, I already have to tolerate the locals' superstitions more than I like as it is."

"Well I missed you too!" I quip and duck under the slightly too short entrance, closing the door behind me and removing my hood I took a look around her home and nodded in approval "Real cozy place you got here, even if I wouldn't personally have my alchemy lab near the entrance."

The enchantments were respectably crafted and whoever made the furniture was at least a low master at his craft, all in all definitely a worthy place for a lone mage.

"Not all of us live in gigantic towers." She huffs and gestures for me to take a seat "Tea?"

'Might as well change it up a bit' I nod "Certainly." A moment later a fresh cup floats next to me and I give my thanks. Taking a light sip, it was pretty good surprisingly, I speak up again "I may live in a tower but I do share it with dozens of house magi."

She puts her own drink down daintily and gives me a blank look "Are you complaining about having dozens of magi under your command to a sole Court Wizard?"

I snort "Well I am for all intents and purposes a Dunmeri Jarl, even if some would like to dispute that little fact."

She nods her head as if to say 'Uh huh' 

"So" I speak after a pause "How have you been?"

"Really?" She blinks "Not going to start with whatever dreadful news you brought?"

I clutch at my heart dramatically "I am not that bad!"

She just gives me a long half lidded stare.

"The rumors are overblown I say!" I point upwards "I am nothing but an upstanding citizen merely dedicated to my position." I look away, crossing my arms with a huff.

Again, without saying a thing, she slowly points to the lightly shimmering orb atop her work table.

"Fucking gossips." I scoff, but internally nod in satisfaction as an orb arriving in Morthal likely meant that all the other holds' Court Wizards have gotten their own. No offense to the swamp dwellers-

'Yeah right.' Scorch scoffs.

-but they weren't really all that high up on the importance scale.

"Wild and indubitably untrue rumors aside." I turn back to my host, somehow making her look even more blank "Tell me, oh dearest colleague of mine, how have you been?"

Her lips thin as amusement dances in her eyes and she exhales "I have been... well. At first I thought Morthal would be a prison, what with all the superstitious idiocy that seems to plague most rural Nords."

"Real high praise for the locals." I snort.

"Quite." She smirks "But" She continues "After spending a while here and getting used to Idgrod's own brand of idiocy, the place has... grown on me." She frowns lightly "Like so much swamp fungus."

Letting out a light chuckle I take another sip of my drink "Anything interesting recently?"

"I haven't been here for that long Reyin." She points out dryly "The only thing of 'interest' as you call it would be the dragon skirting the city's borders but it fled after a few of the ballistae came close to hitting it."

My joviality leaves me partly at that "Yeah, sadly they are not quite as suicidal as I wished them to be."

"You do realize that them being less suicidal means less people getting slaughtered, right?" She deadpans.

"Worrying for your fellow man?" I fake a gasp and point at her accusingly "Who are you and what have you done with Morrigan?!"

She rolls her eyes "Yes, yes, the evil uncaring Reachwoman no longer wishes to eat babies, the terror!"

"Honestly I am just glad I managed to convince you to stop dressing like a cave-dweller back when we met." I comment with a shiteating grin "Whoever decided to make those clothes for Skyrim weather should be hung."

She actually blushes at this and looks away "Please don't remind me of that." She shakes her head "I heard the bitch died over at Haraldstead anyway so no vengeance for me."

"Oh? Got any details?" I lean in.

She tilts hear head "One of a group of three sisters." She shudders "Damned triplets were always creepy."

"Oh." My lips thin and she immediately gives me a look that demands answers. Slowly looking to the side I awkwardly explain "I may or may not have murdered all of them and then risen them and their brother in a necromantic shadow ritual."

I snap my fingers and the antlered shadow forms to my side.

Morrigan stares at it with a mix of awe and dread for a moment before looking away with a frustrated 'tsk' "Please get that thing out of my home, I may not have liked them but I still prefer the naive belief of them not being desecrated."

With another snap of my fingers the shade is gone "Right, I see now how that may have come out as slightly insensitive." I sink back into my seat, muttering "Maybe dealing with dragons and Daedric tears in reality has made me more blunt than I thought."

She lets out a dry chortle at that "Ah yes, poor little Reyvin, facing dragons on his lonesome." She gives me a wry look "How incredibly lamentable."

Even as she attempts to sound amused I still hear the slightest tinge of jealousy hidden behind the jape "Eh, it has its moments." I shrug "Though your own power has grown quite readily." I give her a quick scan "Middle expert levels or just thereabouts, immense progress even by Breton standards."

"Coming from you that only sounds patronizing." She points out dryly.

I wave her off "I have literal stolen divine blood flowing through my veins, comparing yourself to me is just going to give you a headache."

"I see." She deadpans "How incredibly comforting."

Unable to hold back a snort I shake my head "So long as you don't become an idiot like Marwyn you will be able to get quite far at this pace, so don't worry about hurrying up or something equally wasteful."

She stills suddenly "Is Marwyn... well?"

"Fucking idiot decided he isn't talented enough and asked Phineas to teach him the lichdom ritual." I grouse "Apparently waiting for him to experience a full life and then doing it is a bit too slow for the twat."

Morrigan barely breathes for a long minute, her eyes fixed onto a spot on the distant wall as she processes the news. She shudders suddenly and curses "That damned fool!" Her eyes snap to mine "We need to stop him so I can kill him myself!"

"He is already doing a pretty good job of it as is." I snort and shake my head "No point in it, he is already halfway through the cleansing and quite frankly if my dressing down didn't turn him around not much else will."

"Cleansing?" She mutters momentarily distracted, but quickly shakes it off "We have to try anyway!" She insists.

"Look." I begin slowly "As much as I hate it it is still his own bloody decision." I sigh "Besides, there will be a way to 'fix' him somewhat later."

"So that is it?" She asks slowly "Just give up on him?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose I mutter "If you wish to waste your time trying to convince him while he is already half-dead then be my guest. I have far too many things occupying my time to waste it on his stubborn ass."

Her shoulders slump "That is fair."

"On a brighter note!" I intone and pull out a scroll, proffering it for her to take "Consider yourself invited to Silruhn Fell whenever you find the time, just copy the runic matrix onto a floor you aren't going to be using and it should transport you there instantly."

"I know how mark and recall works." She deadpans but there is no hiding the sudden brightness of her face "I... thank you, for the invitation." She inclines her head "Master Shalazar has been doing nothing but praising your 'hidden fortress of doom' for weeks now."

"Love that devious little lizard." I grin.

We turn silent and return to enjoying our tea, the crackling of the fire making the silence that much more pleasant. Minutes pass and Morrigan finally speaks up "So, why have you come?" Before I can once more derail the conversation she preempts "You said it yourself, your schedule is full and I am sure that a social visit to this... charming place is not something you'd do on a whim."

"You'd be surprised what my whims can do." I smirk "But" I quickly add before she can get annoyed "I did unfortunately come here for a reason."

"How unfortunately." She asks gravely.

"Weeeel...." I trail off for a moment before offering her my trademark doom-bringer gin "How do you feel about helping me trail a cult of Hermetics and slaughtering them to the last? It will be just like old times!"

She stares at me for a long moment, weighing her options between just sitting it out or having some actual excitement in this boring-ass excuse for a city. Finally, her boredom wins out and she sighs "Fine."

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