Skyrim: A Sorcerer's Tale

Chapter 281: Chapter VII: Soldiers, Smiths And Dragons



My customary session of patting myself on the back lasted me for only an hour or so before I grew bored once again and stepped out to be a general bother while I waited for my guests to rest themselves.

First I made my way to the training grounds and barracks, a large walled off part of the city positioned to the side of the main canyon entrance. My troops were advancing nicely in both numbers and experience, the constant skirmishes with the feral Falmer allowing them to get blooded with relatively low risks to their lives.

They still got beat up to near death, but that just meant the lesson stuck more often than not and I was more than fine with that outcome.

With their numbers growing constantly I finally decided to introduce some variation to the usual combat kit, leading to the staunch line of halberds now being joined by shield bearers and even a small unit of heavily armored repeater crossbowmen.

Those fuckers could be downright terrifying sometimes, especially when a disturbingly high number of them tended to cackle like madmen as they mowed down entire groups of goblinoids.

These were indeed, my people.

Onto a much less disturbing note, a good number of my veterans had had the opportunity to attune themselves to combat levels of magic use, and that naturally led to a respectable number of them discovering they were not quite as talentless at magic as they initially believed.

Needless to say, the poor bastards signed themselves up for proper magic training and I promptly shoved that responsibility onto Edrassa and Nightshade, who then proceeded to vent their irritation at the new recruits.

At least most of them could cast a proper firebolt now, and a couple could even toss a rudimentary fireball without knocking themselves out for a day.

Their focus on fire magic throughout their initial training meant that not many were able to discover affinities or talents for other schools of magic before they were recruited into the tower, but I felt that was a massive waste and organized extensive testing for all of them. I wasn't sure this would result in the house developing at least a minor mage culture but a Mer could hope so I let things continue as they were without trying to force things.

Once they realized I was observing their training, the mock battle I stepped in to observe turned far more efficient and brutal, with both sides trying to show off without earning a thorough beating by the officers for doing something offensively stupid like breaking formation.

There were many, many, broken bones by the time they were done. The weapons used in training were just much heavier blunted versions of their 'live' weapons and both the Captains and I encouraged them to not hold back during practice, they needed to learn how to take a hit and the healers needed the practice.

The victorious side got to skip out on patrol duty for the night and satisfied with the display, and subsequent report given to me by Varen, I left the training grounds and headed for the other side of the city.

As I crossed a hidden threshold I was hit with a wall of heat and noise, all of it still magically reduced by a wide-ranged ward and still somehow managing to be too loud. It was almost as if the damned place was cursed, this was the third damn tweak I made this week and somehow it always managed to exceed my forever-lowering expectations.

Accepting that a foundry was never not going to be loud I admitted defeat and went in to inspect my very early factory... or well, I wouldn't go quite that far in calling it that. It would be far more appropriate to call it a metalworkers' guild house and manufactory, a place where all the artisans under my rule gathered to make early industrial quantities of anything from tools to weapons to automaton parts.

The whole thing started as a stray idea I had one day when I found out that the vale was pretty rich in metals. Even if they wouldn't be getting extracted for years due to safety reasons, setting up a logistics chain for their use later on was still the smart thing to do and it wasn't like I was incapable of just importing the raw materials for now.

Anyway, logistics aside, while there were many skilled Mer who escaped the confines of the Grey Quarter they all still needed training, and it was here that my beloved good luck struck again as a master smith decided to enter my service after I had apparently saved two of his grandchildren from starvation.

Supposedly he was unable to get to them while they were still in Windhelm and was all too willing to accept the task of training up the willing workforce in exchange for a peaceful place for them to grow up.

And so it was that I ended up with a nice two dozen smiths of varying skills under my employ, and sponsoring the start of a localized guild.

I spent some time looking over their work, mentally going through the quotas I had them follow as even with magic the city wasn't going to build itself. I wasn't a smith personally but I had by this point transmuted and used enough tools and weapons to have a good understanding of what was quality and what was not.

Currently, they were all busy producing vast amounts of farming tools, seeing as the area in front of the walls was soon going to end up being safe for work, and to my great satisfaction, the entire line of tools was of more than acceptable quality.

I accepted Varmyr's (the master smith's) report and left them all with a pep in my step and a groan of satisfaction once the noise finally died down behind its barrier.

Hours went by as I did my rounds across the whole city, ensuring that it was all running smoothly and jus being a general bother by making people either very uncomfortable or too distracted to keep working by simply existing.

It wasn't until Karsus himself, now the de facto Mayor of the whole place, came and politely told me to fuck off and go bother the Falmer or something, that I left the people to their own devices. Not before ensuring that my guests were informed of where I was going though.

And so it was that I found myself outside the boundaries of the city, standing in front of a pair of very dead dragons and patiently waiting for their curiosity to lead them my way. I did not have to wait long.

"Magnificent, are they not?" I ask without turning around.

"Well." I hear Marco gulp "They are certainly something."

"Smaller than Vulthuryol." Minthara comments immediately, attempting to sound

unbothered by the sight or the thing it represented and failing miserably.

I snort lightly at her response "Both were massive fucking cowards. They ran away at first and then tried ambushing us, they did not survive the attempt."

"Dragons being cowards?" The Imperial agent mumbles in confusion from her spot beside

Minthara.

"Why yes indeed." I finally turn and look to Junia "Dragons are indeed capable of having instincts of self-preservation, instincts that are naturally activated by being attacked by a group of circle companions and a duo of arch magi."

The information immediately makes her go deep in thought, said thoughts being so obvious I could practically hear them 'I wonder how this can be applied in hunting them down'

I am not sure if I respect the immediate instinct to kill it with fire or if I am disappointed that she latched onto the fact that dragons can feel fear and didn't have the wit to realize that just because they can doesn't mean they will.

"And why is it that you have called us here?" This time it is Marco who speaks up "That is if you did want us to come?"

"I did." I confirm his suspicions "And the reason should be rather obvious, these dragons are rather recently slain."

All eyes move to Minthara who was looking at the still pristine corpses like they were the most disgusting thing in the world.

"We can delay it if you don't feel like it." I tell her patiently "But delaying it won't make it go

away, I am afraid."

"Of course not." She grouses and approaches the first corpse, she stares at it for a long while before steeling herself and muttering "Best get it out of the way then." And and then she lays her hand upon the cold and dead snout.

And nothing happens.

"I can feel the soul still residing within." She speaks up with a deep frown "But I can't seem to pull it out, almost as if it... doesn't belong to me? The soul I consumed in Blackreach was almost willing to be taken, but these are actively resisting."

"Hmmm..." I place a hand below my chin and begin thinking about the possibilities while the

rest of them do much the same.

"I do believe I may know what is going on." A deep voice rumbles behind the group, and the

reactions are magnificent.

Marco screams like a little girl.

Junia just stands there frozen as two massive golden embers stare down at her.

And Minthara is already charging ahead.

Well, she would be if my hand wasn't currently holding her by the cloak. It takes her a moment

to realize she wasn't getting anywhere, and of course, she chooses to escalate by taking a

deep breath.

I promptly bonk her on the head with a folded scroll, completely and utterly destroying all tension by the sheer collective incredulity at my action.

Getting a bit uncomfortable from all four stares my eye twitches "What?"

And just like that, the situation calms down. Not before Minthara asks the important question "Reyvin, why exactly is there a dragon currently staring down at us and not trying to murder

us?"

"Such vitriol toward your own kin." I tsk and shake my head, immediately earning myself another glare, and having gotten enough amusement out of this I actually give the answer "This is Kreinaarvokun, an ally of mine I met during your travels in Cyrodiil. He has agreed to join our cause and has even been tutoring me in the voice when we both have the time." "Do not be so humble Thuri." Krein's eyes practically twinkle in amusement as he is about to throw me under the bus, Minthara's ears already perking up at the unfamiliar word "I am not merely an ally, but a subject. Feel no shame in saying so, for I do not."

A beat of stunned silence later, the Dragonborn actually explodes "Alright, what the fuck!?" Marco just whimpers dramatically as if the world itself had just been cursed with something terrible.

Accepting my fate with an internal grumble I snap my fingers, summoning up a bunch of chairs and some dry wood, setting up a small campsite, and allowing us all to warm ourselves

in the cold night.

Once everyone was seated and comfortable I began my tale "For context, it would be best if I started at the beginning." I let my words hang for a moment before continuing "Not long after the two of you left Skyrim, my network caught rumors of a group of vampire hunters..." *One long ass explanation on both the Volkihar threat and my incursion into the Soul Cairn

later*

"And here I thought our own adventures were exciting." Marco huffs as I finish telling them about cracking the Cairn open, he shakes his head wistfully "Turns out we are still thinking

too small."

"How?" Minthara asks the dragon dumbly "I've seen the memories of one of you, and even thinking about any of you swearing yourselves to another feels unnatural." "Suffering makes even the truly immortal humble, my kin, and I have suffered for a very

long time." Krein admits easily, his form coiling around the entire campsite "Once I was challenged, the choice was as easy as they got. I either got a good fight that would break the monotony, or the mortal challenger proved to be far greater than I thought, earning himself the right to his attempt of becoming my lord."

"So you just didn't care?" She immediately concludes.

The dragon lets out a vaguely affirmative hum "At first it was so. But once I was cleansed and got a good look at my lord's true self, I admit a spark of excitement awoke in my once resigned soul. The world of mortals had grown far beyond what it once was and I am pleased

to be able to observe it."

He was obviously leaving a lot of stuff out, but neither of us was under the obligation of telling them anything more than necessary.

"I see..." She lies badly, giving me a quick searching look before turning back to the dragon

"You said that you knew what may be the problem with the dragon souls?"

"I did indeed, Dovahkiin." Krein rumbles "It is because you did not participate in the slayingn/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

and I hold the greater claim to them by virtue of being the Dovah to bring the two fools

down."

"Wait a second." Marco almost jumps from his seat "Other dragons can consume dragon souls

as well?!"

"It is possible." Krein hums neutrally, a bit of disgust in his voice "But just because you can

eat elf meat do you do so Fahlil?"

Marco winces and offers an intelligent reply "Ah."

"In any case." The dragon preempts any further questions by looking at Minthara with a

burning focus that was not there before "It is possible for me to forfeit my claim upon these two pitiful insects to you. Do you wish me to do so?"

It does not take her long to catch on "And what will that cost me?" "The slaying of Alduin." He responds immediately and without hesitation "I have grown to

enjoy the mortal realm, and I will not see it ended. So do your duty given to you by Father, Dovahkiin, and I shall be more than happy to aid you."

She finds herself briefly stunned but still cannot help but ask "I was already going to do that

though?" "Good." Krein simply nods his massive head, explaining himself no further.

"Fine." Minthara accepts after another moment "Tell me what I must do." Instead of explaining anything, Krein simply speaks a string of words in Dovahzul. Something

along the lines of 'I do hereby offer this prey as gift/tribute to my kin' and some other grandiose declarations that seemed to resound with the very world itself.

The moment he stopped speaking I could feel it, the souls left his grasp and immediately latched onto the nearest Dovah, practically leaping at her in a surge of blinding gold. For a moment she stood there with her eyes glowing with power, an expression of amazement

on her face, and for a moment it almost seemed as if she would be able to take the two souls without consequence.

That is until she toppled over, falling face-first into the deep snow.

Marco and I share a deadpan look while Junia goes to pick her up "This is going to become a

thing, isn't it?" Both of us speak in perfect sync.

Krein pointedly remains silent.

twice the dragon thrice the stones!

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