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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 LXXIII: Projects and Ceremonies

I blink at Savos' sudden appearance "How nice of you to visit Archmage." I say, my tone implying the obvious question.

He huffs "So cold Reyvin, you wound my old heart."

I narrow my eyes and deadpan "Uh huh."

A defeated sigh leaves him "I swear I am not here to play around... this time."

I blink "You aren't lying... who would have thought it possible?"

He seems somewhat confused by the certainty I am showing but merely shrugs "Indeed, I have come to inform you that we are close to finally breaching the passage in the old Dwemer ruins."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow "Did you confirm the possibility of it being Blackreach?"

He nods "Shalazar has foreseen that a great venture awaits us." he inclines his head "The College wishes to thank you for your great contribution. Without your assistance, the excavation would have probably taken years." He pulls out a Varla stone and tosses it to me, and I absentmindedly place it in my oblivion storage.

"Now for the more interesting part" He smirks and pulls out a sealed scroll "Would you kindly show me the masterpiece Sergius has been praising so vocally for the past few months?"

I nod and my crown appears on my head.

Savos blinks and in an instant appears uncomfortably close to me, examining every detail of my masterwork. After a good ten minutes of silent staring, he lets out an excited breath "Marvelous, truly marvelous!"

He proffers the scroll to me and I unroll it. Before I can start reading Savos interjects, his voice laced with pride "Congratulations Dagoth Reyvin on becoming the youngest Master Enchanter of the College of Winterhold since its foundation, you have done us all proud."

I remain silent at his proclamation. Naturally, I already knew about my advancement due to my system and Sergius' words, but getting recognition from what is probably the most powerful person I knew in this life was still enough to shake me up a bit.

"I am happy to impress" I settle on saying somewhat stiffly.

"And impress you did" He nods happily, completely ignoring my discomfort, much to my relief "Now, what is this I hear about you butchering entire armies with might and magic?"

I happily recount my experiences fighting the Forsworn as we descend the tower and head to grab some breakfast... or was it lunch? Savos reacts animatedly as I recount all the stratagems I employed, sometimes pointing out some slight flaws or chiding me for my overconfidence and recklessness. By the time I am done he is both exasperated and proud.

Most of the palace residents are still very groggy from yesterday's carousal, some are even still asleep, and I even notice a somewhat familiar Orc wearing vaguely imperial clothes snuggling a maid in behind one of the garden hedges.

We found the King and his most important subjects sitting at the high table in the throne room enjoying a meal and most of them looking very hungover or just plain tired.

Savos and I plop down on a couple of free seats, drawing everyone's attention.

Torygg takes a moment to compute but then realizes that the Archmage is here and not being in the best state of mind, openly groans while downing the entire oversized cup of coffee he was nursing. He sighs contentedly and looks at Savos, his eyes practically begging for mercy "Welcome to Solitude, Archmage. To what do we owe the pleasure of your presence?"

Savos contains a childish giggle and merely smirks "I came to inform Reyvin of an upcoming project and thought I might as well stay a while and congratulate you on your great victory King Torygg."

Torygg seems to want to roll his eyes but this time holds himself back "Your presence is always appreciated by the court Archmage Aren, as are your congratulations" He cocks his head in my direction "What is this about a project Reyvin?"

I grab a cup of coffee from a passing servant and turn back to Torygg with a shrug "About a year ago we uncovered a great Dwemer ruin overrun by a bunch of Falmer to the west of Winterhold hold, there was a large collapsed passage at the end and the College is approaching the end of the long excavation. So I will likely be joining the expedition when everything is ready."

Sybille's eyes narrow at this information, and her look promises many questions once we were alone.

Torygg frowns "While I understand your desire to explore, you are still needed here."

I shake my head, almost dismissively "You called me here to help with immediate problems requiring immense applications of violence, something I have done to an extent that went far beyond your expectations" I say pointedly, and after he deflates I proceed to try and placate him "I am not saying I am resigning from my position immediately, I am merely taking some time off to advance my own knowledge and power, something you know very well will be greatly needed in the coming years."

The King nods tiredly "You are of course right, I guess I have gotten too used to you solving all my problems, eh?"

"He won't be leaving immediately" Savos interjects "The final works are still a month or more away and we can do without his assistance, but when we unearth whatever awaits bellow we will need our foremost expert on Dwemertech."

Everyone present who had witnessed Gatecrasher in action shivers instinctually. Torygg chuckles nervously "Yes, I can see how that might be wise..."

Savos gives me a curious glance but I wave him off "I will show it to you later." the old Mer pouts but doesn't press.

I look back to Torygg and ask "What are our plans going forward?"

"Keep consolidating power until the inevitable happens" He shrugs dispassionately after a moment of thought he goes on "As for the short term we will hold the award ceremony tomorrow" He gives me a half lidded stare "You have to attend" completely ignoring my annoyed pout he goes on "eighteen days later I will be holding my wedding" As he says this he blushes lightly "I umm.... might have been a tad overeager when I proclaimed my plans at Haraldstead?"

Harald, who seems to have woken up at the mention of the wedding laughs at the young man's predicament "Hah, serves you right. That'll teach you to steal my daughter" he grumbles.

Torygg looks at me with a devious smirk "What was that odd term I heard you use..." he narrows his eyes in thought, nods in remembrance, and looks back at Harald "Ah yes, I believe the term was 'cope and seethe old man'"

The Thane grumbles into his mead while glaring at Torygg.

The baffled expressions of the rest of the nobles is far too much for me and I burst into a fit of childish giggles.

---

I spent the rest of the day talking with the nobles, hounding my students, and showing Savos around.

When we got back to the tower I showed him Gatecrasher and he reacted as you'd expect, like an overexcited schoolgirl seeing her newest crush. He spent a good three hours asking question after question, which I answered without reservation. Even if the Mer was an irritating troll, he was most assuredly on my side, and if a suspicion of mine was to be confirmed then he was doubly so.

The Archmage left after promising to keep me updated on any progress they made with the expeditionary preparations.

As the sun was setting I found myself standing in front of an irritated Sybille waiting in my room. She seemed stuck between being angry that I was leaving and frustrated that she couldn't reasonably join me.

I patiently waited as her expression shifted repeatedly, going from frustration to rage to disappointment, until she finally settled on a melancholic smile "I hope you aren't planning on getting yourself killed." she said as she offered a gentle hug.

"Don't worry, I will have at least five escape plans at all times and will use meat shields without a hint of shame when it comes down to it." I say with utmost seriousness as we part.

She lets out a very unladylike snort and covers her face in shame as she notices my amused expression "You didn't hear that!" she hisses.

"How can someone so terrifying be so cute at the same time?" I ponder aloud.

The next thing I know I am tackled onto the floor with Sybille looming over me ominously "My, so forward."

"Reyvin, please shut up" She deadpans, but there is a hint of a whine behind it.

I go to say something else but before I can even begin delivering my no doubt masterful quip she seals my lips with her own and my hormone-driven brain freezes for a moment.

I guess I can lay off with the snark for a while...

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The following day we found ourselves at the market square, a large wooden podium having been assembled overnight and a massive crowd of both nobles and commoners assembled around it, enterprising vendors already walking down the assembled lines of citizens and peddling street food and fresh drinks.

The event started with a heavily rehearsed speech by Torygg, written by Viarmo over the course of the past day, extolling the virtues of his soldiers and the new volunteers that joined the legion to combat the unexpected and foul Daedric threat.

He also assured his people that the new immigrants were not to be feared but welcomed, as they were fooled by the foul Daedra and it was the Nord's solemn duty to help them overcome such a tragic and grueling past and show them the path to a better future, together.

The proper ceremony started with naming the dead, and honoring each and every one of them with a few words. This was mostly done by Harald as he was the one that lost most people to the fighting, the proper legionaries having barely sustained any casualties while the recruits lost only slightly over a hundred men.

Then came the individual awards, first came those that slew at least five men or saved their comrades from death, they were given a bag of septims and a bronze badge.

After them came the courageous and daring, those that slew a dozen or those that were the first into a breach or upon a wall. They were given a larger bag of coin and a steel wreath made to look like it was made of leaves. Both Marco and Minthara found themselves receiving these awards, much to their surprise.

I might be a cruel teacher, but they definitely earned the honor.

Torygg then went on to name the housecarls he appointed as temporary governors as he promised, the people let out a rather... confused cheer at the news but as long as their warriors were honored they cared little about the specifics.

Torygg took great pleasure in announcing Harald's reward... the madlad actually called marrying the Thane's daughter to be the greatest reward he could give to such a loyal and brave vassal.

Harald's rapidly contorting face was a priceless sight I quickly burned into my mind.

Naturally, the moment marriage was mentioned the people went completely mad and an entirely new feast was about to break out so we were forced to calm the mob down before they went on a mead rampage and the entire ceremony got delayed.

The twins were granted royal recognition as great mages and warriors, they were especially honored for healing the wounded without rest after the final battle was finished, they were also granted a large sum of money and were invited into Torygg's service as battlemages. Something they accepted with glee.

Sybille completely refused any fanfare being thrown in her name, unlike myself she was not nearly as visible during the battle so Torygg was content to give her her reward behind closed doors.

"And last, but most certainly not least" Torygg barely contains a grin when he sees me scowl "The Mer said to have slain a thousand Reachmen on his own, and singlehandedly clawed victory from defeat, he protected our army from the witches' foul curses and brought down the temple of the foul Daedra they worshipped." He spreads his arms "My dear citizens I present Master Reyvin Flame-tongue of Winterhold, and my loyal Court Mage."

I ascend the platform accompanied by the crowd's maddened cheer, no matter how annoyed I felt I kept my face neutral as I approached Torygg who turned away from the people just long enough to give me a shiteating grin.

I wave to the gathered people and the cheer grows even louder, a while later Torygg signals for them to quieten down and looks at me with solemn respect, lacking any of the previous joviality "It has not been long since you have entered my service, but within these few months you have shown your wit and mettle time and time again. It is my great honor to grant you the title of an honorary Royal Thane and this sash as a symbol of your station."

He proffers a masterfully made crimson sash embroidered with my tale in old Nordic runes and offers it to me.

[Trait: Minor Nordic Paragon => Nordic Paragon]

[Flame-tongue's vestment: A symbol of office and that of recognition, it's power grows with your reputation among the Nords under High King Torygg. 

Current effects:

Strengthens the Flame-tongue's fire breath.

Grants the Flame-tongue an aura of command and respect to any serving High King Torygg or his loyal inheritors (from any mere peasant to the greatest of nobles)]

I drape the sash over my right shoulder and left hip and give the King a light bow, he ever so slightly inclines his head in response and points his hand to a large chest his guards brought while I was examining the piece of red cloth "As a more... practical reward I offer you a large supply of soul gems, so you may reach even greater heights with your craft." I easily detect a good thirty fully charged grand soul gems and my thoughts whirl as plans start to form.

Torygg turns back to the people "And now, you may feast."

Thus ensued a drunken revelry of proportions both epic and frightening.

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Let he who is most degenerate cast the first stone!

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