Chapter XLV: Of Divine Staves and Elven Goons

(Reyvin's POV)

Thoroughly stumped by the lacking enchantments upon the mask I sit down with a huff. My disappointment was immeasurable and my day was most thoroughly ruined.

Likely seeing my mood Durrak, bless his heart, asks "Is it not powerful though?"

"It is" I answer absent-mindedly, the thing gave a nice fat Magicka regeneration and reserve bonus, but the fact of the matter was it was only powerful and not intricate or efficient...

"So what is the problem then?" The rather confused Orc interrupts my frustrated musing.

I sigh tiredly "I don't need it to be powerful, I can make my own powerful stuff." I explain "What I wanted to do is learn how they did things, and all I can say after looking at this is that I am completely and utterly insulted they even called this enchanting."

Durrak scratches his chin and asks "All strength and no finesse?"

"Yup!" I pop the P.

He nods and sits down "I get it, some whelps in the Companions like to think all you need to do is smack a thing hard enough to win." He snorts "They tend to stop that when someone kicks their guts in with a simple dagger but some idiots persist." He shakes his head while rummaging through his pack and soon tosses me a bottle of mead. We raise our bottles and drink in relative silence.

After a while, I turn to Savos, who was by now looking at the Staff of Magnus like it was the prettiest thing in the world and muttering what I can only guess were sweet nothings to it. "Find anything interesting there?" I ask him.

He blinks slowly, as if exiting a trance, then looks at me and answers with utter seriousness "This thing is ridiculous."

"It is a staff carrying the name of the father of magic" I drawl "If it wasn't ridiculous I'd frankly be more disappointed than with the mask."

"Quite" He snorts and tosses the solar stick at me, I catch it and raise an eyebrow at him but he simply shakes his head "It would do far better in your hands than my own."

I see what you are doing there you crusty old man. I snort "And the fact that it disappears after completing its purpose has nothing to do with it?"

Savos sighs "Why must you know so many obscure things? You ruined my perfect prank!" The way he grasps the air in frustration almost makes him out to be the one who was wronged here.

I stare at him without saying a word for what must have been five minutes.

Soon his shoulders slump and he grabs his own drink

Shaking my head I analyze the staff more thoroughly. 

It was made of a wood I did not recognize and covered in elegant runes shared with Magnus' eye, they were flowing and overlapping each other, each rune complementing the four or sometimes eight that surrounded it like a true piece of art. Even the wooden spikes atop the staff helped in focusing the magic and were themselves covered with the same amount of intricacy.

Looking over the runes I get the distinct impression that their meaning is not meant to be known to mortals. I could push with my clairvoyance and my third eye would likely give me a vague impression of what could be achieved with each rune but I was sure that would be incredibly exhausting and left that for when I had time to burn. Besides, I would need to experiment over and over again if I wanted to catalog an entire runic language.

If I was to have a repeat of the Elder Scroll situation I sure as hell wasn't about to do it in a cave.

As for the staff itself, it was much as one would expect... utterly overpowered.

[The Staff of Magnus: The staff belonging to the god, and the very source, of all magic. It is sent forth to champions in times of need and leaves its wielder some time after its purpose has been completed.

Complete Control: Grants the wielder supreme control over Magicka.

Grand Syphon: Uses power from the very air to charge itself and the spells cast through it.

Lordly Conduit: All spells cast are perfected to an extent.

Spell Bane: Destructive spells cast through the staff destroy magic and destabilize Magicka.]

"I am honestly disappointed in Morokei now" I sigh audibly while twirling the staff in my right hand "If he didn't have the sun stick he would have been done in within seconds, minutes at worst."

Savos perks up "You think my friends and I would have stood a chance before if he didn't have the staff?"

"No." I shut that down promptly "You were a bunch of apprentices, I am genuinely impressed you managed to survive at all."

Instead of wincing at my words, or even moping he nods "True, I should be satisfied with what I have."

I stare at him for a while before raising an eyebrow "That is... surprisingly optimistic of you."

He chuckles and takes a deep breath "People say that revenge is an evil thing. They claim it to be toxic and destructive, a prison in and of itself." He snorts in pure disdain "Well I will tell you right now that I have never felt so free in my life. Revenge is tight!"

I shake my head, a smile forming on my face despite my exasperation "And here I was expecting some kind of profound wisdom, or Divines forbid actual growth of character."

A loud, booming laugh comes from what feels like Savos' very soul as he gives me an amused look "Oh Reyvin... You should know better by now."

Cheeky fucker...

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We camped out for a while longer after that conversation. We might have all been joking around but all three of us were incredibly tired and drained from the fight, Durrak got hit multiple times and I had to straight up use my clairvoyance to realize that, as the mad Orc was straight up ignoring the pain.

I kindly lectured his ears off about blood loss and infection.

My own wound was relatively easy to deal with. The fact that I was hit with the staff made healing easier, much to my surprise, as it practically cleansed everything around its strike zone. My robes did take a lot more time to regenerate however.

After two hours of rest, and some more time spent gathering my mostly ruined automatons, we decided to finally leave Labyrinthian. The walk back was relaxed and silent... that is until I felt a good thirty intruders with rather potent Magicka waltzing up toward us with the casual arrogance displayed only by the Thalmor.

"Move to the sides in ambush positions" I tell my companions and they do so quickly.

A mere minute later the troupe of Thalmor walks out into the small plaza I chose for the confrontation and the leader raises an eyebrow upon noticing me "I was informed there would be three..."

"Oh great, a stupid one" I deadpan and I swear I hear some snickering in the Altmer ranks.

"Silence!" The leader yells, a vein bulging on his forehead "Which one are you?" He questions me imperiously.

"Your father" I reply with a snort "But you can call me daddy."

Oh boy, I didn't know Altmer could become so red.

"HNG!" His eye twitches before he takes a deep breath "No matter, we are here for the staff. You will give it to me."

I feel a light compulsion try and worm itself into my mind but I repel with contemptuous ease "Alright!" I say "I just have one question first."

The idiot Justiciar smirks, probably convinced I was under his spell "Ask." He commands.

"Who sent you here, and why?" I question, and while practically slamming him with Mephala's blessing I assure him "I am not going to tell anyone I swear."

One of his soldiers tries to stop him but it is too late "Ancano sent us in preparation for the attack on Saar-" He stops suddenly and flinches as if struck. A shaky finger is pointed my way as he stammers "You! You disgusting, filthy worm!"

I tilt my head "I believe I have been identifying with spiders a bit more recently."

"What?" The Justiciar questions dumbly and I can already see his soldiers preparing for a fight, while one looks just about ready to drag the young idiot away.

Deciding that enough banter was enough I start the battle in the only way that was proper. The Staff of Magnus appearing in my right hand and with a chant of "Arise!"

(Durrak's POV)

As soon as Reyvin kicks off the fight I jump from my cover and launch my spear at the closest group of Altmer. They are pierced with ease and one even ends up embedded in a wall.

A wave of fire surges in my direction but it is too weak to even singe me and the twig that cast it at me soon meets with my fist. One satisfying crack later and I am rushing toward the rest.

Five of them go to surround me in hopes of barring me from my spear but I had already drawn my twin scimitars and immediately started battering the elf closest to me.

Unfortunately the element of surprise was lost and the warriors before me proved why they were feared across Tamriel. Two attacked me and held me off while the rest launched spells of ice at me in hopes of tiring me out.

It would have probably worked if I was a mere Orc, but that was no longer the case now was it?

With a roar of exertion I slash through the sword and then head of the one to my left, while kicking the one to the right so hard his spine snapped on the spot.

Roll under ice shard and into a stab, enemy dodges. Whirl to the side and bat away sword, then proceed to attack with the other, a neck gets severed.

A bolt of lightning strikes my back and my vision goes red for a moment but I control my rage, and instead of going after the one that hurt me I ward off the Altmer that tried to sneak up on me.

He tries to hold me down and make me an easy target but a redirected blade and a headbutt later he falls to the ground with a broken neck.

The sound of spells exploding and the signature blue magic of the staff we captured fill the room but I have no time to look upon my friend's glorious works as another trio approaches to aid my final foe.

I allow the bubbling blood rage of my people to come to the surface and my vision turns completely red.

The following moments are a mix of screams, clangs of steel on moonstone and roars of frothing rage. 

I return to my senses standing completely surrounded by rent-apart body parts and a legless Thalmor crawling away from me while begging for mercy.

I refuse.

(Reyvin's POV)

The Justiciar turns into a husk as I ram Mephala's dagger into his heart and the room finally quietens down.

"Everyone doing alright?" I ask aloud, though I find it is unnecessary as both of my companions are surrounded with corpses and still standing.

They both answer in affirmative and we get to searching our enemies.

Unfortunately even the Thalmor seem capable of learning so there is no detailed plan conveniently placed in the Justiciar's robes. The loot is quickly gathered and placed in Savos' storage, we promised it all to Durrak as we already got what we wanted and the Orc was happy to agree.

As we were about to leave a sudden thought struck me and I told the two of them to wait some ways further. Ten minutes later I was surrounded by ritual circles and the corpses of ten of the Altmer warriors.

I realized I have been underusing my crown to the point of wastefulness and there were at least a good dozen intact corpses of somewhat skilled magi just sitting there...

A good dozen visions of truly boring lives with a bunch of indoctrination and an admittedly efficient training regime the ritual ended and I was now in possession of a personal Thalmor goon squad.

"Arise." I command and my ten new servants appear in front of me. They were still as tall as their Altmer origins might suggest but their sleek armor was now just a bit more jagged, almost as if the shades themselves wanted to be closer to myself.

I dismiss them and check their description.

[The Changed Ones: A unit of ten eternally loyal elven spellswords, they fight as one for their great lord. Upkeep slots: 10]

I shook my head at the system's choice of name and then went to join my companions.

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Doth thou even mine?

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