Heritage

"FUS. RO. DAH!" the undead shouts, blasting Surtr head over foot and causing him to slam into the Word Wall behind the group.

"Holy shit! The thing can use the Thu'um!?" Shakeesh exclaims, horrified due to the many legends he'd heard of the ancient Nord power.

"Don't think about it and attack!" Jackle exclaims, rushing forward with her axes, attacking the now recovered Draugr, who slams her first strike aside with its one-handed ebony axe.

Her second axe hits it in the side of the head but does little to no damage against its ebony helmet. Not to mention it couldn't be knocked out due to being undead. It opens its mouth to shout against, but has its head pulled back hard by Shakeesh, who'd grabbed a hold of the large horns sprouting from its helmet.

"RaaaAaaaaugghkk!" the undead screeches, attempting to reach back and grab Shakeesh, only to be stabbed in its vulnerable side by his curved sword.

Jackle then cuts the arm holding the ebony sword off, allowing the duo to begin whittling it. They sever its limbs via the gaps in its armour, then proceed to beat, stab, and slash it until the light in its eyes vanishes.

The two stand above it breathing heavily, looking down at the undead that caused far more trouble than it had any right to.

"Hah... S-since when did these things use the Thu'um!?... hah..."

"Ha... Who cares... Next time let's just aim for the mouth... Wait, is Surtr alright?" Jackle mutters, prompting them both to look over towards where their ally had fallen.

Surtr was writhing in pain at the bottom of the Word Wall, in pain but seemingly alive...

"Hey, you awake?" Shakeesh asks after a moment of watching the injured man, "Hey Surtr!" he asks again, prodding the man with his foot.

"UUughh... Fuck off..."

Jackle shrugs, "Get up and I'll give you this potion... It ain't milk but it'll probably work for you." she jokes and pours the potion into his mouth since he didn't seem to want to move anywhere.

Once he's recovered, the group open the chest and finds an abundance of things, among them being the Dragonstone, a large stone slab with symbols carved into it.

"That crack-pot mage better pay well for this..." Surtr mutters while storing it in his bag.

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Michael returns to the Eye of the World, only to find a group of people outside its front door making a commotion.

"Did you forget what I told everyone!? That I'd start throwing people off of the cliff?" Michael angrily asks as he looks over the group.

They appeared to be Apprentices from the College, which creates the new question of why they'd taken so long to come if they had an issue with the Spire...

"Master Phinis, are you with them?" Michael asks the Conjuration Master while pointing a thumb at the other angry mages.

He shakes his head, "While I can't say that I'm happy with my life's work being made redundant. Any reasonable person would agree that it's probably for the best. No, I've been trying to talk them out of... This..."

"We don't need 'talking out' of anything, Master!" one Apprentice grouses before looking at Michael, "You will allow us to practise Conjuration again! We can't allow a whole school of magic to be lost because of your fears!" the Breton states.

Michael glowers at him, Blinking forwards and grabbing his jaw in a tight hold. "Fears...? You're telling me you don't fear the Daedric Princes?" he asks while letting go, allowing the Breton to stumble backwards with fright on his face.

They must've known of his strength since it was hard not to hear of his exploits, but it seems that these idiots disregarded those facts.

"No! Why would! Why would I fear that which I could control!?"

...

"Hahahahahaha!" Michael burst out laughing before looking toward Phinis, "Did you teach this retard? Why the fuck does he think he could 'control' a Daedric Prince!?"

Phinis scratches his cheek, "Ah, yes... They may have misinterpreted my words, 'Manipulating or persuading a Prince is possible'..." he admits.

"I'm just acting as I was taught, 'Master'. I won't let you hold us back!"

"Hold you back... Do you want to die so badly?" Michael asks, "Because I can send you directly to Molag Bal to get your body and soul raped if you'd like."

...

"Yeah, that's what I thought... Stop lying to yourself and piss off away from my home. And find a new school to practise, you're only an Apprentice and you're acting like I've hurt you worse than Master Phinis here."

...

The Apprentices still look ready to argue, stubbornly standing their ground.

Michael nods, "Okay, if that won't convince you..." he trails off as he walks over to the Breton, picks him up, and throws him off of the cliff with full force.

The Apprentice screams as he plummets to the ground below, his body crashing against the stone roof of one of the Eredar buildings and bursting like a ripe grape, spraying blood over the nearby snow.

"M-Michael... Was that really necessary?" Phinis utters in shock, not having believed Michael's earlier threat.

Michael ignores him and looks to the other Apprentices, "Five. Four. Three." he stops when all the Apprentices flee in terror down the snow steps, leaving him and Phinis alone on the plateau.

"Yeah, it was. I doubt the Jarl will care, other than asking someone to scrape his corpse from the roof. I did warn everyone after all." he shrugs, "Is there anything else, or...?"

Phinis shakes his head, "Perhaps farming would suit me more than this..." he mutters as he leaves, allowing Michael to enter the Spire.

Tiffania greets him as he ascends the stairs, "Michael, I've I've almost cooked some food, do you want some?"

He nods, "Er, did you know what was happening outside?"

"Outside?"

He shakes his head, "Nevermind..." he says, inwardly promising to install a proximity ward or something along those lines.