Act II: Chapter 4

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When I stepped out on the balcony of the Wizards Tower, for the second time, the men were trickling out of the mess hall and into the yard for the morning march.

I smiled, content that I had made my point yesterday and looked to the horizon. Once again, the sun was peeking its head over the skyline and bathing the world in light.

'I can get used to this.' I thought as I watched the orange rays wash over the clouds.

I stood there for a bit longer, memorizing the amazing view before I turned around and headed downstairs.

I walked out into the yard, proud of the fact that all of the men were in formation and waiting on me. The five legate's were standing in front of their companies. Nobody shifted, or moved until I said so, although I did see their eyes follow me the whole time.

I nodded my head as I took in the sight of them. "Good! Very good, men. I'm glad we don't repeat mistakes." I told them and moved closer.

"Legate's! Introduce yourselves." I commanded once I got in the spot at the head of the men.

The dark elf from the other morning stepped forward first, he was not shy apparently.

"Enden." The dark elf said clearly before stepping back and letting the others step up. His voice was deep and rough, but carried across the clearing easily.

A nord man stepped forward. "Jorard." The man said, with a surprisingly high voice for a man of six-feet four inches. I nodded to him and he stepped back.

Another nord man was next. "Hulimir!" This nord roared, and the veins in his neck popped out. He was obviously a brute, and I loved it. I smiled at him, and the men behind him snickered a little bit.

An imperial was next, and the voice that came out of him belonged on a bard, I could tell. "Telralinus." The imperial said. It felt like honey dripped onto my ears, and I knew that this man was the embodiment of the 'speech' skill in the game.

That didn't stop me from fucking with him a little though. "Tel-what the fuck did you say?" I mocked him and his name.

The men started rolling. Everyone was thinking the same thing, because most of us were nords and we loved to make fun of imperials. But I couldn't let that become a standard, so I decided to put a stop to it.

I sent a glare to the men behind him. "What the fuck are you laughing at?!" I roared and moved forward to the brute that introduced himself as Hulimir, the one laughing the most.

I got right in his face and stared straight at him. He, and the rest of the men, wisely shut up and didn't answer my question. After a few moments I stepped away and went back to my position. Before I could turn around, the same imperial started to speak.

"Tel, sir. My name is Tel." He said, and he had a shit-eating grin on his face. He could see the humor in all of this, it seemed.

'This one, knows how to turn the crowd to his favor.' I thought as I looked at him.

"Tel, it is then." I said with a nod. Mentally, I decided that I like Enden, the dark elf, and Tel, the imperial the most. "Next."

Another imperial man stepped forward, except he was built like a nord. Wait, is he a nord? I thought as I squinted my eyes, trying to determine his race. I stopped, realizing that I really didn't give a fuck. Either he is useful, or he isn't.

"Dec." The man said with a grin.

'Probably got another ridiculous name like Decimus or some shit like that.' I thought as he stepped back into the line. Another smart one, though. I thought as the man held his head up high, waiting on orders.

"It's nice to meet you all." I said simply. "My name is Hadvar, and I am General Tullius' new Battlemage. But to you, I might as well be Akatosh!" I introduced myself.

I would have said Talos, but I didn't want to risk any Thalmor agents getting wind of my saying that. It was best if I looked like the obedient Imperial Battlemage, and not the dumb nord. Regardless of how I felt about it, I couldn't risk my position right now.

"Now that introductions are over! We…" I said and I pointed to the legates in front of me. "...are going to teach you all how to properly march!" I said, moving forward.

I walked to the man closest behind the Legate's and grabbed his shield. He let it go without complaint, and I looped my arm through the strap in the shield and moved back to the Legate's who had yet to move.

"On me." I commanded as I dropped into the proper stance. Into the same stance I had used during the Battle of Druadach. The five Legate's fell in beside me, and I was happy to note that, besides a few things, they were in proper formation.

"When we train our marching, we will do it as if we are advancing on an enemy, until I say otherwise!" I said as I turned my head around to the men behind me.

"Forward!"

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My eyes scanned the men, from my position on an elevated platform. The platform was made for this specific reason, so that I could watch the men and see individual movements if I wanted to.

I looked up to see that the sun was nearing its peak in the sky. Now is as good a time as any. I thought as I looked back to the men. I channeled a bit of magic to my throat, trying a new trick I had read about the night before in the tower.

"Stop!" My voice boomed off of the walls of the tower, and reached the men below. Everyone froze, and even a few men reached to their ears for a moment it was so loud.

'It's effective, but let's turn that down a bit.' I thought as I decreased the magic in my throat.

"Legates, on me. Men, break for lunch, and then back in the yard." I commanded at a much better level tone.

Most of the men did as I said, and started walking to the mess hall. But there were some that dropped onto their ass for a moment, exhausted. I turned my head, recognizing that I was pushing them hard. Maybe too hard. So I allowed it, considering it was the first week.

The Legate's did as I asked and started moving up to the platform quickly. Most of them were breathing heavily, but that didn't look near as exhausted as the others. Hulimir was the most out of shape. He was more built for strength than endurance, but I would mold him as I saw fit.

Soon, they came to stand before me in parade rest, and then I started talking.

"You may rest." I said, partially as a test, and partially out of a reward for their hard work. Enden, Tel, and Dec did not rest, they stayed still at attention. The other two either dropped to the ground to sit, or rested on the railing. I noted how everyone acted and filed it in my mind.

"This is your new life." I told them as I looked out onto the yard. "In the morning, you will march. Break at midday. The amount of rest you allow the men in the mornings is up to you. After lunch, you will have them drill with the sword and spear. Focus on the basics, thrusts from marching position mainly. Give them two hours of sunlight for their free time. Any man that gets extra practice in during their free time, let me know who they are." I told them.

The schedule wasn't any different than what I had established in Markarth, except I wouldn't have the time to oversee everything. Tullius told me to delegate, and that was what I was doing. It was time to see who was a good leader, and who wasn't. The reason I wanted to know who worked more at it during their free time was to see who had the drive to be Legate, if the five men in front of me were deemed insufficient.

None of the men said anything. I nodded at them, satisfied that they knew their orders.

"Dismissed."

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I stood on the top floor of the Wizards Tower.

My belly was full, but my appetite for the magic in front of me wasn't. One thing that I had missed during my initial tour of the Wizards Tower, was the hidden alcoves that had bookshelves on every wall.

The top floor of the tower held the most books. In the middle of the room, was the same structure that grew all kinds of magickal plants for potions. A walkway surrounded it. If you took the walkway to the right, from the stairs, then you would come across an alcove with three bookshelves on each wall. These held books on potioneering. Theory, basic recipes, how to grow the plants yourself, harvesting, etc.

If you continue along the path, you find the second alcove. Once again there were three bookshelves. Each bookshelf was dedicated to the main elements of destruction that magicians like to use. Ice, Fire, and lightning. Although the shelf with lightning was much more sparse than the others.

The path would eventually wrap around to the third alcove, that held the most books per bookshelf. These three bookshelves held Illusion, Restoration, and Alteration books. This was where I wanted to be for the day. Eventually I would venture into the other sections, but I wanted to see what else my schools could surprise me with. They were already proving to be so effective with my position, why change it up?

I began skimming the section on Alteration, and almost immediately found something that caught my eye.

The cover was red, and in a very good condition. The letters were gold and eloquently spelled 'Mages Downfall'. I grabbed it and moved down the shelves looking for some more books. Some caught my eye, but none more than the one in my hand. I decided that I could always come back to the bookshelf and grab some later so I moved down the path a little further to the fourth alcove.

There sat a desk, filled with empty notebooks, quills, and inkwells that apparently didn't allow the ink to dry. Nobody had been in the Tower in a while, I knew that for sure, so the fact that the ink was still good was impressive.

I sat down in the comfortable chair that was provided and laid the book out in front of me.

'Mages Downfall

Master Magician Velara.'

I hummed and decided to get straight into it. I opened the first page and came upon an introduction into the book, as was normal for wizarding tomes in this world.

'The sack of the Summerset Isles should not have happened. And yet it did. Why?

My entire purpose for this book is dedicated to this question. The simplest answer is to blame Tiber Septim, and the power of his thu'um. But the answer must be deeper than that. Every Altmer is raised to believe they are superior to the other races, because of our affinity to the arcane. Our magicka is greater upon birth, and can grow greater, than the other races of Nirn. Our armies should have had little problem against the forces of man, regardless of the number differences in the armies.

Except, the conquerors men fought with a ferocity that seemed otherworldly. As if they were all fueled by a single minded hatred for our race.

Tiber Septim is credited with single handedly wiping out the grandmasters of our race. The wisest, and most powerful of us all. Our leaders, gone in a night.

Six of the most powerful beings to ever walk this plane. One nord, albeit barely, decimated the foremost experts of magick. How?

No one will ever truly know. However, I believe it is a very simple answer.

Physicality.'

I scrunched my brows, not knowing where the book was going. Nor did I understand why it was in the Alteration section of the Tower. I turned the page, interested in seeing where it was going.

'A magician's dominance in any altercation has always depended on a single factor: distance.

From twenty feet, it is a trivial matter to close the distance on a magician and have your way with them. It is hard for all but the most disciplined to cast a spell while dodging a sword.

Any longer than twenty feet, and it gets exponentially harder to defeat a magician with physicality.

This is why lycanthropes pose such a threat to most magicians. Hircine's blessing gives them many physical advantages even outside of their transformation, where these blessings are multiplied. Simply put, they are faster and stronger than any normal mer or man. They can close distance faster than any other alive. Even greater than vampires. Many have theorized that Ysgramor's success against the Snow Elves was due to his devotion to Hircine. Our most ancient texts describe magic as slipping around his form as he barreled his way through his foes.

Why then, is Tiber Septim considered to be the most physically gifted warrior to ever live, when Ysgramor was so dominating.

The answer is once again simple: The Thu'um, the dragonspeak, call it what you wish. I believe he was capable of boosting his physical prowess with it, beyond what is possible for lycanthropes.

What does it matter? You may ask.

To answer this, I must tell you my background in magick.'

I flipped the page, thoroughly invested in the book now that Velara had expanded upon the book a little more.

'Restoration is where I have made my success in life. I have studied the anatomy of all the races of Nirn for nearly three-hundred years. Altmer nobles pay for my services, above all others and I command nearly a hundred apprentices at any given time.

But there is one more aspect of magic that I have more than a passing interest in: Alteration.

I have always been fascinated by spells like ironflesh, oakflesh, and the following alterations of the physical body. So now to answer the question of why does this matter?

I have developed what I believe to be the magickal equivalent of Tiber Septim's physicality. I call it 'Dragonflesh'.

But a more appropriate name would be 'Mages Downfall.''

I frowned at the reveal of what the book was about. 'Dragonhide' was a spell in the games that reduced physical damage by eighty percent, and while that would be an amazing spell in this world, it seemed to fall short of what I was expecting.

I was kind of expecting something that would counter the opponents increase of physicality. Which, by the way, I had no idea that being a werewolf granted you any physical abilities in this world. All it seemed to do was give you access to a transformation in the games, and force you into the Hunting Grounds when you died. Nothing mentioned an increase in speed and strength.

Unless, 'Dragonflesh' in this world is nothing like the 'Dragonhide' in the games… I thought as I flipped the page again.

'Before I get into the 'how' of the spell, I should warn the reader that it requires supreme knowledge of Restoration and Alteration. Even a decent amount of magickal theory should be known before attempting.

This is also very taxing on one's Magicka during the beginning stages of learning it. Although, the more you practice with it, the more efficient you will get.

Complete mastery of the spell will cause a couple of universal outcomes. The users physical strength and speed will increase to levels equal to the legends mentioned earlier. But more importantly, magick will slide off of the user, like the stories of dragons barreling through magic.

The levels of strength and speed will depend on the user's knowledge of anatomy and efficiency with the spell. In the beginning, all of these effects will be very minimal. My only advice is to keep practicing.

While I stated that an advanced knowledge of Alteration is required, I did not mean in the category of Ironflesh or Oakflesh. No, that would only hinder you. To clarify, I meant that your ability to cast an effective ward should be unmatched by others.

My personal notes and techniques on how to perfect your wards will be on the following pages.

I have many books on Restoration one should consider reading before attempting the spell. There will be a list of these books on one of the following pages.

I would point you to the common, but controversial, book 'Magickal Theory and Techniques of Casting.' for growing your reserves. The techniques in this book have long since been considered the most efficient.

Finally, the actual spell will be on the last page. If these prerequisites are met, you will find that casting the spell will be much easier than expected.'

I set down the book, and my hands went to my head where a headache was forming at the requirement for even attempting the technique.

'It's like this spell was made for me.' I thought as I read the requirements again. Everything was something I was already working on.

But if it's true, and it'll put me on the level of Tiber Septim and Ysgramor physically, then I have to perfect it. Especially if the Thalmor decide that the Treaty isn't enough for them and attack again. I thought as I pondered the information in the book.

I picked the book up, and heard the sound of falling paper. I looked down to see that a note had fallen out of the back of the book and was resting on the table. I picked it up without hesitation and opened it.

It was a simple letter.

'Dear current Battlemage to the current Emperor,

I hope you like this gem. There are only a couple of copies still in existence. A simple investigation will reveal that my friend Velara went missing a long time ago, as did some of her closest apprentices. This book never reached the magickal community.

It is easy to decipher why. The name will tell you everything. The Thalmor don't particularly like it when one of their own gives the world a spell to defeat ninety-nine percent of magicians. Take it, if you wish. I have my own copies.

Sybille Stentor, Court Wizard of Solitude'

That information floored me. 'The Thalmor killed Velara for creating this spell?' I thought as I tried to process the information.

But it made perfect sense. The name of the book was 'Mages Downfall' for a reason. The Thalmor, still recovering from the damage that Tiber Septim caused to their race wouldn't risk anyone knowing this information.

No doubt, Velara just wanted to create an answer to the man that had caused so much destruction to their race. But the people in power realized the danger that it could potentially provide to the race, and got rid of her and the spell.

'And Sybille just left this laying in the Wizards Tower?' I raged as the implications hit me. 'Anyone could have walked in here and taken this.'

My mind was going a thousand miles a minute, thinking about the book that I had just stumbled on. Then another traitorous thought hit me.

'Ralof is supposed to be looked at like Ysgramor and the heroes of old.' I thought as the information in the book got applied to the state of the world around me. 'And if he really is a werewolf, then I would be dumb not to assume he is just as physically capable as what Velara revealed.'

'Especially if he is on Ulfric's side after the Challenge. That would put us on opposite sides of the war. And then the Dragonborn has to choose sides also.' I reasoned with myself as I thought about all of the threats in the future.

'Tiber Septim's physicality sounds a lot like Dragon Aspect, or maybe Whirlwind Sprint.' I thought as I tried to decipher what it was that made him so physical.

I continued to think about the revelations that the book had shown me. If everything was true, then there were about to be some absolute monsters in the world. Ariella, and Ralof were already there apparently.

I was ready to become one of those monsters.

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A/N: Boom!

So we got some more filler, but it was very meaningful filler. Some more very very important information about the future came up. Ralof, is most likely already a monster. Ariella, is most likely already a monster. The Dragonborn is almost guaranteed to become a monster when he pops up. Hadvar has a long way to go. It seems like the odds keep stacking up against him huh?

What do we think? Let's talk about it in the reviews!